


The lies we spew

by Sailingdreameater



Series: The lies we spew [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dialogue Heavy, Dr. Valack's experiments, Dying Stiles Stilinski, Eichen | Echo House, Everybody Just Wants To Be Happy, Except Donovan, F/M, M/M, No black and white setting, Nogitsune Effects, Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Nogitsune cares for Stiles Stilinski, Nogitsune's past, One-sided Tracy Stewart/Theo Raeken, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Screw Donovan, Sick Character, Sick Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, Stiles Stilinski Feels Guilty, Stiles Stilinski Has Frontotemporal Dementia, Stiles Stilinski cares for Nogitsune, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate Break Up, Stiles lies a lot, Tags May Change, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sailingdreameater/pseuds/Sailingdreameater
Summary: The Nogitsune is gone and so is Allison and so many others. But neither Stiles nor the rest of the pack have time to mourn. It's Beacon Hills. Which means the next big bad was right around the corner. Too much means little things go unnoticed.Stiles knew that no one could find out. Not about his sickness. Not about his mental health. And definitely not about the fox he keeps hallucinating.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Hayden Romero, Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, Nogitsune/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Stiles Stilinski & The Pack, Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate
Series: The lies we spew [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996993
Comments: 17
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is a long fic that I've been working on quite a while now.  
> I almost decided against making this because I really don't like writing fics about dying characters.... But the idea just popped in my head. Also, it isn't the main point of the fic but it does play a major part in it. The story is going to be more of a 'how such and such a thing changes canon' rather than a 'oh, Stiles is going to die' thing... So, yeah.  
> I hope you like it!

**_Nervous demeanour_**   
**_Please make things cleaner_**

The Nogitsune was trapped. It couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. That meant everyone had time to breathe and mourn. Allison’s funeral was as tearful as it was heart wrenching. While everyone cried, Stiles could see Chris Argent try his best not to. Stiles felt sick to his stomach. Logically, he knew he wasn’t actually responsible. That didn’t change his guilty conscience nor the strong feeling that told him to get out of the cemetery. That he didn’t belong there. That he didn’t have the right. 

**_Fill me with dirt_**   
**_Whatever makes you worse_**

He left early and no one stopped him. They all had this silent understanding. Scott smiled at him through tears as he held his shoulder and shook his head. Stiles knew what he was trying to say but he simply pursed his lips, nodded and left. He did feel better after going home. 

_**Lavender is always running through my blood  
I've had enough I'm cold and it is dusk  
Turn into dust, it's dripping from my gums  
It's not enough** _

His Dad was there, waiting for him. There was no need for words. The Sheriff simply enveloped him in a hug. Stiles didn’t know how long it lasted with him just standing there sniffling in his Dad’s arms. When he stepped back, his Dad simply smiled at him and rubbed his arm comfortingly. 

“How’re the others?” He asked Stiles, voice soft and understanding. Stiles scratches his head and purses his lips. 

“They’re all the same. It’s gonna take a while for them to get over it. If ever,” he mumbles as he makes vague gestures. “Argent is as stoic as ever. Well, he’s trying to. Um- Him and Isaac are going to Paris soon. A change in place or something. Ethan and Lydia are even more devasted about Aiden. They’re not gonna – um- bury him. Um- Something about tradition. Lydia is broken up about it. Scott’s been making sure everyone else is doing alright, he’s not taken a break. I don’t think he’s even sat for a second today. I mean, he’s a werewolf, so more stamina but-” 

“Hey,” his Dad cuts in to make him look him in the eye. “They’ll be fine. Give them time. You’ll be fine too. I promise.” 

Stiles nods even though he doesn’t feel like it. His Dad knows though. He sighs and guides Stiles to a chair and kneels before him. 

“Son, listen. Remember when you snooped through my stuff and found out about my old partner, Donati?” Stiles nods. “Remember how you found out and I yelled at you so much, I went blue in the face.” 

Stiles laughed once through the tears. His Dad smiled. 

“Yeah. You’re Mom got pissed off at that. She gave me the silent treatment and wouldn’t forgive me, telling me you were just a kid and you didn’t know any better.” 

“Yeah. I remember.” Stiles smirked, his tears drying. 

“Yeah. But you never stopped. You just found out more and more and more. You never stopped finding out things, trying to help me out, playing detective, snooping through my stuff. I never needed to explain things to you. You always figured things out. You always were way too smart.” He smiled at Stiles, putting a hand on his, holding it tightly. “Even when Claudia passed away. You were so mature about it. I looked at you, dreading the conversation of what to do next. But when I saw your face, I realized I didn’t need to. You handled yourself way better than I did. Than I ever could.” He beamed proudly at Stiles who felt fresh tears pour out, not knowing where his Dad was going with this. “You understood. You knew and I was always bad at communicating anyways so somehow, I felt it’d be fine. Sometimes. But when I look at you now, I realize that you’re just a kid.” 

Stiles tilts his head, confused and still in tears. His Dad looks at him with pain in his eyes and a tight smile. 

“Dad What-”   
“When Donati died,” his Dad interrupted him, “I felt remorse and guilt like no one else ever could. What if I’d done something else? Maybe I should’ve made a different call. I was riddled with guilt. My partner and friend became crippled and I couldn’t sleep without waking up to Claudia jostling me and telling me I had another one of my nightmares. It took me awhile. Took me close to forever to forgive myself. To tell myself, there was nothing I could have _possibly_ done to change the situation. And it took me even longer to feel that way in front of his son. But, Stiles, in the end, I did let it go. You know why?” Stiles looked carefully at his Dad. “Because, sometimes, you can’t do anything to help or change things. It sucks, believe me, I know. But it’s true. And if I hadn’t called for back-up, who knows? Maybe Donati wouldn’t even have lived the shoot-out. So, I forgave myself. And so will you,” he continued. He got up and ruffled Stiles’ hair and smiled again. “For now, just go to bed, son. It’s a school night. You don’t have to go, but I think it’ll be better if you sleep it off for now.” 

Stiles nods quietly with a small smile of his own and his Dad walks out of the room to go to bed. Yeah. He was going to get over this. 

**_Oh I'm just a kid_**   
**_I've never seen the world_**   
_**And I haven't quite decided**_  
_**If I'm a boy or a girl**_

As he walked past the hall, he noticed something nestled in the corner of an armchair. When he gets closer, he noticed that it was a medical file with his name on it. It was the results of the MRI scan. The one that was altered by the damned fox. 

“Hey Dad,” he called out through the rooms. 

“Yeah?” He hears an answer from the bedroom. 

“The file with the MRI scan. Do you need it?” 

“It’s fake anyways right? Do what you want with it.” 

“’Kay, I'm going to throw it out then.” There was a grunt in reply. 

_**Oh I'm just a kid** _  
_**I'm afraid of the dark** _  
_**But I'm obsessed with the ideas** _  
_**One day I'll go far** _

Stiles walks up to his room with the file in his hand. He’d throw it out tomorrow, he told himself. As he walked, he opened the file to brush through. Maybe a little laugh at the stupid carbon copy illusion cast on the scan would crack him up. Who says laughing at your enemy’s mistakes was a bad thing? 

Funnily enough though, there were no more illusions. The test seemed fine. The image of his brain was different from before. It wasn’t a copy of his mother’s. Instead, it seemed like a normal brain. Stiles laughed. Maybe the illusion wore off when the Nogitsune was captured in the box. 

He was about to flop it onto his bedside table when he paused. As he looked carefully at the scan, he noticed something odd. An area of the image of the brain was different. It was coloured different. A highlight to show the shrinkage. It made Stiles’ blood run cold. He sunk to the floor. 

_**Oh I'm no longer a kid** _  
_**And everything has changed** _  
_**There's nothing in my heart** _  
_**And lightning in my brain** _

His Dad couldn’t find out about this. No. No one could know about this. Not yet anyways. And so, Stiles did what he knows he’d regret later on. He burned the whole file. This way, no one can read it. Not unless Melissa decides to revisit the scan results in the hospital. He doubts she’d do that. Lucky for him, something tells him, there will too much on their plate to deal with past incidents. 

They lived in Beacon Hills. Something was bound to keep everyone’s attention. Stiles knew he could keep this up for a while at the very least. Really, there was no need for people to know anyways. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Predictably, something did happen. Derek had been kidnapped. The biggest clue the pack had was the shotgun shells of the Calaveras. That warranted a trip to Mexico which was more of a suicide mission than anything else. And when Lydia would not shut up about how bad the plan was, it started getting on Stiles’ nerves. He shut up about it though. Hoped that they would succeed even if it took a while. Somehow, with Scott, Stiles knew it’d always work out in the end. Maybe it’s pack mentality, literally. 

Leaving the Calaveras with Braedon, Stiles already felt like his nerves were wracked. He could feel Malia stare at him, curiously. Her head tilted slightly, making it hard for him not to think of Peter. It made him wonder. Maybe she’d be just like him. She didn’t have any reservations to kill nor abandon them. Maybe she’d leave him for de- No. She’s working on that part of herself. She won’t be like Peter. She’ll be better. 

With that in mind, he tried to calm himself. As a reward, the universe decided to gift him with a hitch in the road. In particular, his jeep broke down. He groaned. He loved this jeep but he swears to God he’s going to smash it to bits someday. He made sure to tell Scott and Braedon to go on, that it’ll be a quick work and they’ll catch up soon. Well, he thinks. Besides, Derek is the priority right now. As he tries to fix the jeep without any actual expertise in that field except for a Wikipedia page, he tries to keep his irritation in check. At least Malia wouldn’t wonder why he’s so irritated. 

\---------------------------------------------------------- 

Dealing with Derek as a child was the last thing he had ever wanted. Babysitting duties wasn’t his thing. Not to mention, he was not in the slightest mood to deal with Malia and her antics. Luckily, Derek was still unconscious and in Deaton’s care. He _did_ have school anyways. He wanted to get some shut eye before the next day rolled in like no one’s business. So, that’s what he did. Amongst all the incidents, pressure and secrets to keep, Stiles slept and he hoped his insomnia didn’t creep up. 

It wasn’t insomnia that crept upon him. It was the dreams. The nightmares. While Stiles had recurring nightmares of the thing that wore his face in different settings and different ways, this was strangely different. He felt it deep inside him. He felt it like the darkness around his heart he could not seem to ignore. 

The Nemeton stood before him, mocking and silent as ever. And over it sat the same terrible face that made him hate mirrors. The face that made him want to hurl. The face that killed so many. The thing behind the mask simply sat there waiting for him. No game of Go, no other illusions. It was just him and the Nogitsune. He walked over to the creature and sat before it. It was something they often did before. Just sit there with no context whatsoever. But there were no games to be played here. It was just them. 

In a way, this dream was a lot better than the others. Aside from the lucidity he didn’t think it was as bad or as weird as some of the others. 

_**"What'll it be now Mr. Mole?"** _  
_**Whispers sloth in curls of smoke** _

“You think so?” The Nogitsune asked. Stiles should be more surprised at it reading his mind, but this was all in his head anyways. Besides, he knew the Nogitsune could hear his thoughts clear as day before. It’s what unnerved him so much before. The creature smiled before continuing, “I believe this isn’t a dream, Stiles.” 

“Yeah. Sure. Why not?” It laughed. 

“You do not believe us?” 

“Not really. No.” 

_**"Take a back seat, or play pharaoh**  
**Dance with me and shake your bones"** _

“I suppose you would think as much now that you have your sickness to deal with.” It speaks so leisurely, but Stiles’ stops cold. How did it know? No. Wait. This was his head. “We told you, Stiles. I am real.” 

_**Slow down  
It's a science  
He's been waiting to  
Bring you down** _

“No,” Stiles replies shakily. “We trapped you, so this isn’t real. You aren’t real.” 

“Oh, but we are. The dreams you had before, they weren’t real. But this time, we are. I am real, Stiles.” 

“No. That’s not true.” 

_**Snake eyed  
With a sly smile  
He can hold you  
And shake you dry** _

In a flash, the Nogitsune was before his face. So close, Stiles could feel the cold air from its breath and felt fear spike his being. The same vivid fear that never failed to haunt him. There were tears in his eyes yet the Nogitsune relished it. It smiled with a sort of sadistic satisfaction it seemed to have always had. That didn’t deter Stiles who learned to stand up to that very fear, be it before or after the creature was defeated. 

“We defeated you. We trapped you,” he spoke out, voice becoming a lot bolder than he felt. “You’re stuck in a wooden _box_ somewhere whose location even _I_ don’t know of. So yeah. You’re not in my head.” 

“.... Are you sure about that?” The sly grin it gave him made his blood run cold, but he held on. 

“Yeah.... I am.” It sighs as if it was disappointed in Stiles and cups his face in its hands. Stiles has no choice but to look only at it. 

“Did you forget something crucial, Stiles?” It brushed his hair in a mocking imitation of affection. As if it cared for Stiles deeply. Something it always did. Something that made the things it did a lot easier on Stiles. But in this moment, it confused and disgusted him. He tried to pull away only to pause, thinking of the what-ifs. The Nogitsune smiled in glee. “I see you’re coming to the right conclusion. Yes, Stiles. That’s right. This isn’t entirely your body anymore. Not since we split us in half. A part of us resides in you.” 

_**Wanna play cheat now says the sloth  
A domino flush to his nose** _

“No,” Stiles whispered softly, haunted by the mere thought. 

“ _Yes._ That’s right Stiles. That is why we are able to get inside your head. We can mess up your beautiful head like before. Oh, maybe even more than before.” 

“Then,” Stiles looked at it, tears finally spilling out, “why didn’t you?” It sighed with a bitter smile and settled back, letting go of Stiles. 

“Because we don’t need to.” 

“Don’t... Need to?” It laughed at his question. 

_**Tickle that cheek and take your throne  
Pump your veins with gushing gold** _

“We lost, Stiles. And we bear no grudge towards your pack for their victory. Which is why, even though I could easily manipulate you into letting me in once more, even with the tedious process, I decided to let things be.” 

**_We can hold you_**   
**_We can hold you_**

“... Why?” Stiles asked slowly, and he was rewarded with a congratulatory smile and even a clap. 

“Wonderful, Stiles. You always asked the right questions even if it takes a while.” It laughs and settles comfortably on top of the Nemeton. “To answer your question, it’s because I get something much better.” 

**_We can hold you_**   
**_We can hold you_**

Stiles looks curiously at it, fearing the answer and regretting the question as he bites his thumb nail. 

“I get to see you, Stiles. I get to see you fall further into madness. Oh, I’d love to see how much you struggle. And to see the pack realize what’s happening to you. Can you imagine the look on the Sheriff’s face when Daddy’s little boy really _did_ have Dementia? Can you imagine Scott’s? And you know what’s the best part? The bite would only _kill_ you!” It cackled hard as it tried to sit still. “Even better is the fact that the only way to stop it is if I am let inside again. Which, I know, you wouldn’t do. Oh, I can see it now! See you suffer with the clear path of safety but not be able to take it. Or taking it only to see your friends and family be ruined. Stiles, Stiles, _Stiles!_ I just can’t wait to see how you’d handle this. Will you tell anyone? Would you tell them about me? Will you even know if I’m real? And what if your precious Scott decides to force you into getting you possessed by me just to save his beloved friend? The cruel fate that awaits you, Stiles, I’m all up for it!” 

**_We can hold you_**   
**_We can hold you_**

That’s how Stiles wakes up. With the echoing laughter ringing in his ears and tears silently spilling out and into his hair. It’s true. He doesn’t know if it’s real or fake. Right now, though, it was still way too early in the morning. He simply crawled out of bed and into the bath. Something about early birds ringing in the back of his head as he heads over into the shower. The ghost of the laughter still ringing, Stiles finds himself sitting down in the shower room for what seems like hours before he decides to get his mask on for the day. ‘No one can know about this,’ is the sole thought running in his head. Even as he smiles and waves to his Dad and makes his way to school. Even as he sees Scott and remembers that there are try outs soon and they needed to practice. Did he even care about it? He wished he could break that lacrosse stick of his for good. Right. He had to worry about pipsqueak Derek too. Shit. 

**_We can hold you_**   
**_We can hold you_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song list:  
> 1\. Lavender blood - Fox Academy  
> 2\. Kids - Current Joys  
> 3\. Black Mambo - Glass Animals
> 
> Ayyoooo~ Sailingdreameater here again!  
> Updates are every week (mostly) and mostly will be done on Sunday. I added songs to make it feel like how the show is. Which is also why there are more dialogues and actions.  
> I hope you liked the chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry! I said Sunday and here I am slipping up the very next week.   
> However! I haaave a valid, SOLID excuse!   
> Iwasmopingaroundthehouseafterwatchingthelatestepisodeofsupernatural (oh yeah. And I was making a last minute ppt for a presentation today)   
> Anyyyyways~ Hope you like the chapter!  
> Love,   
> Sailingdreameater

He’s  gonna kill him. He’s going to kill Scott one of these days. After all that’s been happening, he had to go and get himself a Beta. Accident or not, this was probably the stupidest thing Scott has ever done. Forget having a normal semester! He hoped that, at the very least, he’d have no other concerns. Yet here he was, looking at a series of murders, Scott having a Beta with anger issues, Dad and Melissa having problems with bills, and for some reason, Malia found new ways to annoy the crap out of him. She’d crawl into his bed, scratch his back or have sex with him, which would be great if she didn’t end it all with spooning him or rather coddling him like a baby. It was confusing when they don’t ever talk about it either. When the theory of assassins killing the supernatural in Beacon Hills come up, Stiles was thoroughly and utterly done. Not to mention, he was secretly still afraid of the faint possibility of his name being on there too.

Well, it didn’t seem to matter much to him anyways. He was dying either ways. This would just speed up the process if his name was there. He vaguely recalled the words Noshiko told him before.

‘You’re more human than fox.’

Perhaps there really was a part of the fox in him to make it into the list. Then again, he told himself as he brushed the fading scar behind his ear, he was still simply Stiles.

Whatever it is, whatever he was, it was better than before. 

“So, what are you now?” Liam asked him judgementally.

“Better,” he answered and thought as much. Yeah. Definitely better.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m not  gonna run,” he tells a very angry and ferocious Malia. He knows though. He understands. “ ’Cause I don’t think you’re  gonna hurt me. And I think that maybe you’re so afraid of hurting me? Because of what you did to your family.” He knows how she feels. Clearly. Recalling every part of his time trapped with  _ it _ inside his body. 

_**I'll wait for you to let me go** _

“I know what that’s like, Malia,” he tells her softly, walking ever so carefully towards her.    
“I remember everything I did. And the worst part is, I remember liking it.” He pushed the words that stung as he spoke it out loud. The truth of letting it take control and _enjoying_ everything it did.    
“I felt fearless. And most of all, in control.” He recalled all the times he’d have panic attacks and times when his social anxiety creeped up. It took him almost forever to try hiding it behind his mask of humour and sarcasm. _Try_ being the key word. 

**_ Can't wait for you to let me go _ **

“But when I came through it, I learned something else.” Malia turned to look at him. As she did, he could see himself in her. The desire to be stronger. To be better. To feel in control. To  _ stay _ in control. 

_**But you won't** _

“Control? It’s overrated.” 

_**So I'll reclaim my body and my soul  
Banish the broken from my bones  
You're no longer my religion** _

The words rung clear and true. It didn’t matter if he could no longer have control. It didn’t matter that he would slowly lose a bit more of himself. It didn’t matter that the people who cared about him, who  _ loved _ him would lose him. Because, in the end, who really had any control over one’s own fate? He didn’t have to stand there asking for the Nogitsune’s mercy nor burden Scott with added worries in the case that he did survive the bite. Yes, he was going to die. Yes, it wasn’t going to be the best of ways either. But at the very least, he will die on his terms. For now, he could help the Coyote shaped girl he adored.

_**So I take on a whole new energy  
Manifest a better part of me  
Gotta rid you from my system** _

And just like that, he moved towards Malia and unlocked the chains. It didn’t take long for her to regain control as she clung to him. She looked at him surprised. He smiled, proud of her progress. Proud of her.

_**It's time for an exorcism** _

“You did it,” he exclaimed and she hugged him in relief. Stiles let out a sigh of relief himself.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

“So maybe there’s a number that can help us,” Parrish told Meredith. “Someone we can call.”

“Yes,” Meredith  tells them with a nod. Lydia is quite impressed with Parrish, she had to admit.

“Would you mind telling us?” He continued softly. 

“Yes.” Lydia was relieved with that response. She takes back her phone slowly and begins to type as Meredith recites.

“It’s... 7 – 8 – 4 – 5 – 3 – 7.” She finishes off, proud and happy. She looks around happily as everyone looks on confused.

“Mer,” Malia begins with folded arms and a frown. “We need a few more numbers.”

“No,” she tells them, with a shrug. Lydia can feel the exhaustion creep up. “That’s the number.”

“Phone numbers are 10 digits.”

“That’s the number,” she repeats with a shrug.

“Meredith,” Lydia raises her voice, tired. “Phone numbers always have 10 digits.”

“That’s the number.”

“ _ Meredith-” _

_ “ _ Lydia.” The Sheriff intervenes and guides her away. “Hey. Come here.”

It then devolved into a mess. Lydia trying to get something out of Meredith and giving up, the Sheriff trying to help Meredith and finally, Meredith who kept yelling that that was the number.

In the end, Lydia was made to sit outside at the helping desk and Malia walking up and down, nervous and worried. It was then that she noticed the old telephone with the alphabets on them.

“Lydia,” she calls out to grab her attention. “What if it’s like algebra?”

“What do you mean?” Lydia raises her head to look up at Malia only for her to pass the old telephone to her.

“What if the numbers are actually letters?”

That caused a stir and a spark of hope flutter in Lydia. She grabbed the nearest pad of paper and set off to decode.

PQRS TUV GHI JKL DEF PQRS

7 8 4 5 3 7

S T I L E S

“No,” she whispers softly and looks up at Malia, who simply bites her lips. Lydia then opens her laptop and types the word, silently hoping that she was wrong. With the tap of the enter key, they were presented with the next list. The cipher was decoded.

Lydia stared on, shocked and not knowing what to do with the information. Malia could feel her claws slipping out and blood spilling as she dug them into her palms. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

When Stiles gets the call from Lydia, he is relieved. ‘Finally,’ he thinks as he answers it.

“Thank  _ God _ you called, Lydia. We could really use your help right about now,” he tells her nervously shaking his body and biting his thumb nail.

“Stiles?” Her voice is shaky and he squints, confused. 

“Is it bad?”

“It’s-”

“Look. Is Malia on it? Is Liam?”

“No-”

“Then it can’t be that bad,” he tells her. She’s probably shaken by the list. “Is anyone else there? Anyone on the team?”

“No. No- um not the team. But there’s one from the other team. Brett.”

“Crap,” he drawls knowing that’s bad news. “Brett? ‘Kay, thanks Lyds.”

“Wait! Stiles,” she calls and he pauses.

“Yeah?”

**_ Ayeee.... Oh oh ooo.... _ **

“Stiles. It’s- It’s about the key,” she tells him with a tired voice. “It’s your name.”

And just like that, time stops for Stiles. So, it was true. He was dying. Well, he knew that. He knew that already but it was funny when it came out of Lydia’s mouth. He didn’t know if he should laugh.

**_Kaalam kettu poy kolam kettu poy_**   
**_Bhaagyarekha thenju maanju poyi_**

“Stiles?”

“Yeah. I’m here Lyds.”

“Stiles,” she began, voice shaking as if she was about to cry. “I don’t know. I don’t know why-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Lydia. Okay listen to me. It’s gonna be fine.”

**_Kaalam kettu poy kolam kettu poy_**   
**_Bhaagyarekha thenju maanju poyi_**

“How?” She bursts out. Stiles doesn’t know how to answer her. 

“Look. I gotta go now. But we’ll talk about this soon, yeah?”

“... Okay.”

**_ Kaaluvechu bhoomiyum kuzhinju thaanupoyi _ **

“Malia too.” There was another pause before Lydia agrees for that too on Malia’s behalf. “Good. Listen. Just, don’t tell my Dad or Scott yet. I don’t wanna freak them out any more than they already are. Actually, don’t tell anyone.”

**_ Kandu ninnathokkeyinnu melle maanju maanju poyi _ **

“But-”

“We’ll talk about it. Soon. I gotta go now, Lyds.”

**_ Virinja poomaram kozhinju veenupoyi _ **

“Okay. Okay, yeah.”

**_ Eduthevechathokke innu thaazhaveenu poyi _ **

“Bye.” He cuts the call before he could hear anything else. He looks up to the sky as he holds his waist and inhales. He exhales through his mouth and hunches over.

**_Kaalam kettu poy kolam kettu poy_**   
**_Bhaagyarekha thenju maanju poyi_**

‘You knew this already,’ he remined himself. ‘You knew.’

That didn’t seem to work but the screams of cheers in the crowd got him back to the present situation. He had to save Brett. He had to tell Scott before it’s too late. And so, he runs.

**_Kaalam kettu poy kolam kettu poy_**   
**_Bhaagyarekha thenju maanju poyi_**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night Malia crawls into his bed as usual, only this time, she tugs at him so he could face her. Stiles couldn’t pretend anyways. So, with a sigh, he turns to face the conversation he had to have. But before he could speak, Malia kisses him. 

She pushes him down even further into the bed and sits on top of him, never stopping her flurry of kisses except to breathe. Which wasn’t for that much or that long either. 

He could feel it. The maelstrom of emotions behind each kiss, as passionate as it could be. Her confusion and worry, anxiety and frustration. He didn’t need to be a wolf nor fox to pick up on these. She was like an open book and he adored reading her.

It was with this in mind, he let her take control. He let her tug his clothes off. He let her brush her warm fingers and sharp nails over his body. He let her bite and suck till he was left moaning. He moved with her, hands running through her hair, kissing her wherever he could find purchase.

It was always like this with her. She wanted to be in control. In control of something. To hold onto at least one of fate’s many strings. And as they finally come to, panting and not letting go, she finally looks at him.  _ Truly _ looks at him. She frowns, too proud to cry and too confused to ask. So, Stiles volunteers the information.

“I know,” he pants into the otherwise silent bedroom. “It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t matter,” she growls out, angry at his negligence over his own life.

“It doesn’t matter because I’m going to be fine,” he continues, ignoring her words. She looks at him before cuddling at his side. She exhales softly, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he didn’t feel it on his bare chest. There’s a pause before he continues. “Don’t tell anyone. Especially not Scott.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want them to worry,” he tells her with a small shrug. “We already have a lot of crap to deal with. I’m not going to worry them on the  _ possibility _ that my life could be in danger. And, really. Who would target me? I’m human. It’s you guys that should be worried.”

“So, you’re just gonna add to that pile of secrets you’re keeping?” Stiles stays silent. He wasn’t shocked, but he still had nothing to say to that. It was true. If anything, it pissed him off. “Fine. Be that way. I’ll sniff it out anyways.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees as he stares at the ceiling, knowing he’s in for another sleepless night even as he feels extremely tired. “You probably will.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**_You’re going places_**   
**_I’ve never been_**

Stiles should’ve been more careful. He should have. Even as they leave, he can’t control the sheer anger he felt. He wanted to rip Meredith apart. Somewhere, real or not, he was sure the fox was laughing at him. Times like these are when he wished he was powerful. It was times like these that he felt that a little more control would have been nice. Times like these, he longed for the lingering touch of an entity that he hates more than his own self.

**_And I can tell you_**   
**_I will, I will_**

“ _ Stiles,”  _ Lydia’s voice brought him out of his head. She looked at him carefully with a tilt and he could see the drying blood by her ear. She notices this and quickly wipes it off. “She didn’t mean to do it. It’s my fault.” 

**_Any distance_**   
**_I’ll be by your side_**

That brings him to his senses. What even was he thinking? They were the ones who drove a  frickin nutjob banshee over the edge. It was a warranted reaction.

**_ Any time _ **

“No,” he tells her slowly. “It’s our fault.” He can almost hear the cogwheels turn in Lydia’s head. The questions she wants to ask. The ‘ _ are  _ _ you _ _ okay’ _ s. So, he indulges her.

**_Take me with you_**   
**_I love to go_**

“Lyds. I know what you want to say, so say it.” She sighs, upset and tugs at her hair before finally resting her hands and on her waist, looking down at her feet.

**_ Even if its somewhere out of this world _ **

“That’s the thing. I don’t know what to say. Why? You’re  gonna die, Stiles. I can’t handle-” she breaks halfway, lips curved downwards as if she was going to cry. Stiles immediately holds her. “I can’t handle another- another one-”

**_Somewhere with you,_**   
**_To be with you_**

“Hey, hey, Lydia,” he shushes her, running a hand through her hair. “It’s okay.”

**_Oh,_**   
**_Take me with you,_**   
**_I love to go_**

“No,” she whines as she shook her head. “I  _ can’t,”  _ she stresses and breaks down once again, sobbing into his shirt.

**_ Even if its somewhere out of this world _ **

“I’ll be fine. Lydia, look at me,” he stresses out. He grabs her arms and pulls her away to make her look at him. She finally looks up through the tears. “ _ I’ll be fine. _ Remember you screamed my name once? I turned out fine after that. So, I’m positive I’ll be fine.”

**_Somewhere with you,_**   
**_To be with you_**

Lydia seemed to calm down at that, looking at his funny half-open-mouthed smile. Then, she pauses and frowns at him.

“Did you talk to Malia?”

“Yeah. Last night,” he tells her.

“What about Scott? Or your Dad?” He pauses before he gets an idea.

“Lydia. Please, I need your help.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t approve of this,” she berates him as she types away on her computer.

“I know. Thanks, anyways.” He walks up and down, biting his nails, already thinking of the next course of action. Lydia sighs.

On the printout that’s spit out, the key code on top of the sheet read Aiden rather than Stiles.

Stiles knew that that name would hurt Lydia, but he hoped she’d forgive him for it. He just wasn’t ready for anyone to find out yet. Not right now. Just, not right now. Somewhere deep down, he knew Lydia understood that part. In fact, she was the one who came up with the idea of putting Aiden’s name instead. It was sheer luck that nobody asked what the key for the second cipher was. Even luckier was the fact that Scott didn’t ask.

And so, the night wore on as they tried to figure out what the next key was. It took a while before they finally found out. 

Derek. 

Something in Stiles screamed. He wanted everything to end right here and now. No more dead pools. No more bills. No more Dementia. For God’s sake! It was all too much. Too much for him.

They had the PSATs soon. He wasn’t even confident in that. Somehow, he found it difficult to remember the big words. He tried memorizing them but it never stuck. He didn’t know if it was the ADHD or the Dementia. 

If that wasn’t enough, the sheer thought of knowing that he wasn’t the only pack mate to surely die was absolutely maddening and painful. It wasn’t fair. Not in the least!

Right here though? Standing beside a dumbstruck Lydia, he could only stare on as the final list was displayed. And on it was not only Liam’s name but also Malia’s. Malia Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song list:  
> 1\. Exorcism - Clarity  
> 2\. Kaalam kettu poyi - Shabareesh Varma  
> 3\. Take me with you - Emmrose
> 
> (That Malayalam song is from a movie that is one of my all time faves hehe~ It's called 'Premam' if anyone wants to give it a watch!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone are having/had an awesome Diwali!  
> Dropped this on time!  
> Have a great week everyone~ <3

That was a lot of money. _A lot of money._ And it was _Peter’s!_ Of course, it also belonged to Derek but _Peter?_ No. He didn’t deserve to be an asshole, ruin their lives _and_ be rich. 

It wasn’t fair. 

_It wasn’t fair._

Well, to be fair, he didn’t care much about Peter. He never did. It was only when the concept of money was introduced that he decided to be the judge. In all fairness, he _did_ hurt a lot of people. 

He hurt Lydia and left her for dead. 

Yes! He did that, didn’t he? How could Stiles forget? 

He bit Scott. He hurt Lydia. He hurt so many! It was because of him that Kate was even alive. 

Why did he need to be rich too? 

No. 

He could easily miss a few bucks. Half a million was just that much for him, wasn’t it? Just $500,000. 

It wouldn’t mean much to Peter but could mean so much to Scott and him. And Lydia? She could try and hide it, but he knew there was a reason she was finicky about the old boathouse. He snooped about too much to not know what she’s dealing with. 

Their lives could be so much better with the money. 

But it still was Derek’s too. He couldn’t hurt Derek like that. Derek was.... Well, Derek. He was good. He was the good guys. But it was also Peter’s money. 

When he looked at Scott, he realized Scott felt the same way. 

“What’re you saying, Stiles,” he asks him, appalled. As if he didn’t just have the same idea. It irritated him. It was almost irritating enough that he could just punch Scott. 

But that’s just it. As he looked into Scott’s eyes, he could clearly see the lost feeling he’d always felt. Scott looked at him for a moral compass like he did Scott. They were each other’s compass. They were brothers. They were always together. It stung Stiles. Scott was looking at him for a guiding hand and here he was trying to deviate him from the path he wanted to live. Here’s the kicker. He was also lying to him. Lying to possibly the only other person who’s family other than his Dad. The person who knows him best. His brother. He was so sorry Scott got him as a brother. He couldn’t be the moral compass Scott needed. He couldn’t even hang around for too long. 

He didn’t know what to do. So, they silently decided to sleep on it for now as Malia charged through the door to Scott’s bedroom. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Stiles tried his best to cover for the PSATs, but he thinks he’s going to fail. The number of complicated words he comes across and can’t remember nor read is innumerable. He knows it’s the sickness but he tries anyways. 

Besides, he’s got a plan. He’s going to mug it all up and go for an all-out, ~~ambienturous~~ , ~~anbidexutres~~ , ~~ambidextres~~ , two-handed technique. Yeah! It’s definitely gonna work out. He’s positive! 

Lucky for him, or unluckily, they get caught up with yet another assassination attempt. As he looked at the invigilator for the test, he has no doubt in his mind, this man is definitely creepy. 

**_Onigumo ichizoku kitsune_** ** _ni_** ** _sareware_** ** _,_**   
**_yuukyuu_** ** _no_** ** _kutsu_** ** _taeshinon_** ** _dekita_**

Surprise, surprise! The man _was_ the assassin! Who would’ve guessed? 

**_Yurusan, yurusan,_** ** _yurusan_** ** _,_** ** _yurusan_** ** _,_**   
**_inochi_** ** _o_** ** _kounazo_** ** _sarasara_** ** _shinaiga_**

“Shouldn’t one of you at least get to live?” The man spoke with a gun to his head. And as per usual, Stiles just had to give him a sarcastic comment. “I’m going to count to three.” 

**_Hyakudai saki made_** ** _urande_** ** _yarouzo_** ** _,_**   
**_kisamara_** ** _oni_** ** _daro_** ** _honmono_** ** _ni_** ** _nareya_**

He cocks the gun and Stiles can feel his heart race. ‘Why was he sacrificing his life for others?’ He thought about it but pushed it away as it was replaced by pure anger. 

**_Onigumo bakashita kitsune o_** ** _kucchare_** ** _,_**   
**_hitokui_** ** _no_** ** _matsuro_** ** _watashi_** ** _wa_** ** _shitteru_**

“You think you can scare me?” He rumbles. He doesn’t need to see yet notices the spilt-second long surprise that registers on the bastard’s face. It gives him joy and the courage he needs to walk closer to the gun. 

**_Mou shindakashira?_**   
**_Danmatsuma no toki_**

“No. But I thought the countdown would make it more fun,” the man exclaims with a sadistic smile. No. Not sadistic. He’s seen what sadism looks like up closely. He’s felt it. This is nothing. So, he smiles wryly at the man. 

**_Watashi o norotte_ ** **_shinde_ ** **** **_ikinasai_ **

“You know... Killing me is pointless,” he tells the man, his voice was barely above a whisper. As if he was having a private moment with the assassin. He takes one more step forward so the gun touched his forehead. “I’m gonna die anyways. So, you with your stupid little gun can’t do anything. I can crawl my way to my friends if I must. I can crawl out of my fucking grave just for this. But not before I rip you apart,” he glowers at him, feeling the faint tingling of feelings not long forgotten yet secretly longed for. “And I don’t need any superhuman power to do that.” 

**_Onigumo ichizoku kitsune_** ** _ni_** ** _sareware_** ** _,_**   
**_yuukyuu_** ** _no_** ** _kutsu_** ** _taeshinon_** ** _dekita_**

He can feel the thrilling sensation of the uncertainty from the other man as he begins counting nonetheless. Yeah. It doesn't matter because this shake in confidence is enough for Stiles to throw him off. He’s going to get shot, yes. But he simply needs to make sure it’s not fatal. He doesn’t close his eyes. He stares right down the barrel of the silencer and at the other man. 

**_Yurusan, yurusan,_** ** _yurusan_** ** _,_** ** _yurusan_** ** _,_**   
**_inochi_** ** _o_** ** _kounazo_** ** _sarasara_** ** _shinaiga_**

‘If you’re real,’ Stiles thought to himself in his head, hands clenched and ready to spring into action. ‘If you’re not just a figment of my imagination. And if you really want me to entertain you...’ 

**_Hyakudai saki made_** ** _urande_** ** _yarouzo_** ** _,_**   
**_kisamara_** ** _oni_** ** _daro_** ** _honmono_** ** _ni_** ** _nareya_**

The assassin had never been more confused as he is before this stupid teenager. He doesn’t get where he’s getting his confidence from. His name isn’t on the list either. Which doesn’t make sense. Perhaps he’s bluffing? 

**_Onigumo bakashita kitsune o_** ** _kucchare_** ** _,_**   
**_hitokui_** ** _no_** ** _matsuro_** ** _watashi_** ** _wa_** ** _shitteru_**

‘Then help me out, fox.’ 

**_Watashi no urami de_** ** _omaera_** ** _ichizoku_** ** _,_**   
**_Shinde_** ** _mo_** ** _tokenai_** ** _onigumi_** ** _no_** ** _urami_**

His vision became blurry and smoke-like tendrils encroached the edges of his sight. 

**_Watashi o eien,_** ** _agamero_** ** _tataero_** ** _,_**   
**_samonakuba_** ** _omae_** ** _o_** ** _noroi_** ** _korosuzo_**

Just as the assassin counted down, a shot rang loud. Stiles blinked, clearing his vision. Stunned by the sound, he turned to see Rafael looking at him with surprise and a gun in his hand. He grits his teeth as he wondered how fast it had been for him to turn to ask the vulpine bastard for help. Fuelled by his rage, he just wanted the asshole before him die. Now, when he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure if the bastard would’ve answered him. His cheeks became pink as he ran down towards friends, trying to block the memory from his head. Well, for all he knew, the fox might not even be able to help him. Whatever. 

**_Ningen o taberu_** ** _sono_** ** _ijou_** ** _na_** ** _koto_** ** _,_**   
**_daidai_** ** _tsuzukero_** ** _samonakuge_** ** _korosu_**

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to get to the basement. Even less before he realizes Malia had found out and is now angry at all of them. Stiles simply squats on the floor, exhausted and regretting a lot of decisions. 

**_Onigumo bakashita kitsune o_** ** _kucchare_** ** _,_**   
**_hitokui_** ** _no_** ** _matsuro_** ** _watashi_** ** _wa_** ** _shitteru_**

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

It had been a while since the last time he dreamt this way. The same lucid dream. The same feeling that told him this was different. The air charged with something special. Like before. 

The same old entity sat on the same old tree stump wearing the same old face. Looking at it, he couldn’t help his heart clench for various reasons. But the most prominent feeling was that of familiarity. He knew this nightmare. He knew the story behind this hell. He could deal with this one. The one outside? That was something he couldn’t deal with. No illness. No lies. No heartaches. No one dying. Well, no one _actually_ dying. And no Malia. Within these dream walls, he simply had to face _it._

And that? That was beyond pleasing. 

There was no cause for concern when it came to the fox as they had clearly explained their intensions, or rather, the lack of any except to watch. The fictional board was set and the game was clearly going in Stiles’ favour. Sure, he might’ve wavered once but it wasn’t going to change much. Not when he had the upper hand. The upper hand being his clear rejection of control. The paradoxical nature of the concept ensured that even if he called out for help, it was because of a lack of control. A lack of control over himself and the situation. He knew he had already won a battle. He was sure he’d win the war. He could deal with a little gloating and deprecation from the fox in the meantime. Frankly, he didn’t even _need_ to know if the creature here was real or not. He didn’t care enough for that. As he crept closer, he could see it on its face. The frown clear as day. He smiled. It growled. 

He took his seat opposite the entity. 

**_Sun-suck, morning light_**   
**_Sun_**

“You don’t take well to losing, do you?” He mocks it. It glowers at him before sighing. Suddenly, there was a tea set before them. It pours out two cups and serves one to Stiles in a silent gesture to drink. This was also something Stiles was quite familiar with. He didn’t mind. However, he didn’t think they would be in the mindset to have tea. 

**_Gaze from the night sky_**   
**_Sun_**

“I have a lot more etiquette than you think, Stiles,” it reminds him with a smirk. This part of them never changed either. They’d always treat him like this even if they were angry. Well, most of the times. 

**_Sun-suck, morning light_ **

Stiles looks at them waiting for their taunts. He waits for the mocking quips and heart-wrenching insults. Waiting for another batch of nightmares they are going to whip up. Nothing comes up. 

**_We can't control it now_**   
**_(Now, now, now)_**

“If you’re waiting for me to torture your mind, forget it. I do not intend to do any of that,” they say while taking a sip of their tea. It looks at him with mirth swimming in their eyes. Stiles is left confused. 

**_This is the only chance_**   
**_Oh, let's just do it_**

“Why?” 

“Isn’t it obvious, Stiles?” It sighs before putting down its cup. They look at him with a smirk playing on their lips, hands placed steady and with discipline on their lap. “I don’t need to.” 

**_Have to go through it_ **

“You don’t?” Stiles is thoroughly confused. He leans his ear closer and squints at the entity. 

“I don’t,” it says with a smile. “Because you’re doing all the work for me.” 

**_Let's get onto it_**   
**_(Ho-hold, hold it down)_**   
**_(Down, down, down, down, down)_**

Stiles freezes. It takes a moment for him to calm himself down, but he does so anyways. He knew what he was getting into. He knew it very well. He could deal with this. It hummed in response, once again lifting the cup to its lip, covering their smile in the process. 

**_You need the one, and you need my kiss_ **

“Indeed,” it agreed with his mindset. “I simply need to sit back and let your mind descend further into madness without lifting a finger. I get to watch you suffer and feed off of it at the same time.” 

**_You need the light so you can see things clear_ **

They said it with such ease that Stiles was honestly disturbed by it. Well, he should be used to this by now. 

**_Suck on me now, love your blossoming hate_ **

“So, you’re just gonna sit there and watch me go crazy?” 

**_Your colours evolving, I now understate_ **

“That’s the plan, yes.” 

“Why do you want the easy way out? I thought you like making meticulous plans and feeding off of the results.” 

**_You need the one, and you need my kiss_ **

“I do. But I lost,” they said with a sigh. Just as Stiles placed his empty cup down, the room shifted and they were sitting in Stiles’ room. They sat as they had before. Only now, they sat on his bed. Stiles was scrawled over on the floor as though it was mocking him. Well, it did snicker at his annoyance. Nevertheless, he pushed himself up to sit on the bed and across the fox, only then realizing the floor would’ve been better than the proximity. They simply looked amused before continuing. “So, I decided to let the course run. I’ll watch over you as you slowly die and I’ll wait until the day I break free once more to bring Chaos to the world.” 

**_You need the light so you can see things clear_ **

“Again. Creepy,” Stiles snarked with a shake of his hands. They simply nod with that ever-present smirk. 

“So, Stiles,” it drawls. “Mind teaching us Chess in the meantime?” 

**_Suck on me now, love your blossoming hate_ **

If there was ever a time when the Nogitsune _didn’t_ put him off, he’d thank his lucky stars. 

“Whatever.” 

**_Your colours evolving, I now understate_ **

And as they continue playing for however long, Stiles doesn’t notice the sun rise or when he woke up. He is left with irritation and a game that would never be finished. 

He gets up to a bed without Malia. A house without his Dad, owing to his night shift. A house with him and him alone. 

Not even his probably-imaginary-head mate. 

He felt so lonely. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“Hey turn it off,” he yelled at Brunski. He was then met with a fist. Knocked down, head banging against the cold basement floor, Stiles blacked out for a moment. That was enough. That was enough for the voice to creep in. 

It began with a little chuckle and the sensations that shot through his body seemed to reverberate from the place Brunski punched, down to the base of his spine and all the way down it. 

‘This is surprising,’ it seemed to purr. ‘Ah, how mysteriously does the human brain work!’ 

‘Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it,’ was all Stiles could think as he heard the soft sobs from Lydia. He couldn’t stand it. The sound of Lorraine Martin seemed to echo along with Lydia’s sniffling and Brunski’s heavy breathing. 

A mixture of horror and the ghost of a thrill seemed to blend into one hot mess in Stiles’ mind and he couldn’t seem to understand what was wrong with him. He can’t sit through this all. 

‘You seem to have given me quite the present, Stiles,’ the voice exclaimed and laughed in an all too familiar voice to his that he couldn’t place if it wasn’t his to begin with. He wanted to yell. He wanted it all to stop. Yet, like Lydia, he was a prisoner to this little piece of hell. 

As he blinked, he could see the ghost of the Nogitsune kneel down beside him. It leaned onto him, almost as if it was brushing against him. It caressed his face like a lover would as it shushed his mental screams for freedom. Stiles could do nothing but lean towards the imaginary touch and was rewarded with a hum of satisfaction and random strings of Japanese words. 

Stiles was again stuck between reality and his imagination. Not knowing if the fox was real or not. Not knowing if he wished for it to be real or not. 

‘Though I am flattered that you’re thinking of me,’ it snickered, ‘I suggest you focus your emotions elsewhere.’ 

Right as the words were spoken, Brunski moved to get up. With a smug smile, he retrieved a medical kit from the shelf. Stiles turned his head from the Nogitsune to try and look at Lydia. The Banshee seemed to have been shocked to silence. Stiles knew without looking that that audio broke her. It angered him. 

‘That’s right.’ The nogitsune smiled encouragingly. They held his head in their arms, as they leaned over him. Draping, almost. ‘Feel that anger, Stiles. I love seeing you angry. You’re beautiful like this, Stiles. The thoughts that you have when you’re angry.... They make me want to _beg_ you to bring me back into you. This much is not enough. More! More, Stiles. I want you to rip him apart. Kill him!’ 

Just as Brunski brought the needle to Lydia’s neck, Stiles was too far gone. He was willing to break his wrist bone to break out of the restraints. The same black smoke clouded the sides of his vision and he knew deep down that if he just pushed himself in the right direction, he could do it. He could break free and rip Brunski to shreds. It appealed to him more and more as he tugged at his wrists like a maniac. There was a stinging sensation and Stiles didn’t need to look to know that they were bleeding. He didn’t care enough. 

At the nick of time, Parrish seemed to walk in with a gun raised. This seemed to cool Stiles, to the disappointment of a certain Supernatural being. 

‘ _Kuso_ _,’_ it cursed and seemed to fade away. Stiles didn’t know why he felt regretful at that. He sat quietly as his vision cleared and he wondered if he was getting worse or if what he saw was all real. Not knowing stung more than anything. He bit his lips to keep from trembling. After that, it wasn’t hard to keep his emotions in check as cold apathy took over when the gun was fired and there was a flurry to be free from the restraints. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------- 

The whole fiasco ended with an overnight check-up for the both of them but Stiles in particular. Lydia seemed way too shaken up to stay. The whole thing will be wrapped up the next day but Lydia insisted on staying over in the station. She preferred to go to the station to give her statement and look into Meredith instead. Parrish couldn’t convince her otherwise and ended up staying there with her. Somehow, Stiles preferred it this way. As Melissa gave a cursory glance before rushing off to continue her job, he lied down and thought about the one thing that was on his mind. 

‘How adorable! You keep thinking of me.’ The sudden voice resembling his own made him yell out in surprise. 

“Don’t you dare,” he warned the Nogitsune, taking to biting his thumb nail and folding his arms. This was a whole other ball game. He didn’t know how well he could deal with this. So, he dealt with it in the only way he knew how. 

“I thought you were going to take a step back?” He scratched his head and gave a fake smile. “Y’know? Just kick back, have little foxy tea ceremonies and watch as my shrinking brain did all the work.” 

‘True.’ They nodded, folding their own arms and pointing a finger at him in agreement. There was a smirk playing on their lips as they continued to speak. ‘But this wasn’t done by us. You got your head messed up sufficiently to trigger the fox side of you. It’s become more active.’ 

“How does that even happen?” Stiles was honestly done with this charade. He was done. They simply laughed. The voice rang too loud and clear to not be heard outside yet it was only Stiles who heard it. 

‘There are things even I don’t know, Stiles,’ they quipped with a smirk. 

“Great,” he drawled with a sarcastic smile. This was his limit. He lied down on bed and closed his eyes yet sleep didn’t come. 

‘That is not the fox that’s influencing your sleep,’ they tell him as if in response to his speculative thoughts. He sighs. If it wasn’t the fox, it was his Dementia. Or insomnia. Or paranoia. Or PTSD. Or the fact that the spot where Brunski hit him throbbed like a motherfucker. Take your pick. 

So, Stiles tried to get comfortable and looked up. Oddly enough, the Nogitsune sat by his head on a chair with the air of someone who has every right to be there. Stiles wished he hated the attention. The Nogitsune simply smiled softly at him. This is what it always did back when it possessed him. It liked to pretend like he mattered to it. He hated it. The fox didn’t seem to care that he did as it just sat there quietly, looking at him. It should be creepy but Stiles found that he was used to this, even if he was not. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. 

It seemed peaceful enough for him to ask the question that’s been eating at him for a while. 

“Why did you do it?” 

“Hm?” 

“Hide the MRI report. It would’ve been better than creating a fake one resembling my mother’s.” 

They sat quietly. The smile on their face fell as a frown took its place. Since it didn’t reply, Stiles continued. 

“I know you’re good at planning and hiding. I read the lore. Kitsunes, even Nogitsunes, can’t seem to hide themselves well when they possess someone or take a human shape.” Stiles shakes his leg and plays with his fingers, trying to get the nervous energy out of his body. “I know they slip up when they get nervous or feel scared or even happy. But you don’t do that. I felt it. I could feel the way your mind whirled with each intricacy. You’re too much of a control freak and perfectionist to let that happen. So, why? Why did you want to show a fake report instead of the real one? It would’ve been better for you.” 

He watched the Nogitsune as they look back at him, quiet as ever. They weren’t going to answer him. He turned his head to look up at the ceiling. Maybe he could try getting some shut eye. 

It took ages before he slept. He was sure that the next day had come along. Just as he felt himself drifting off, he could hear the soft murmur of the Nogitsune. 

‘Because we take care of our belongings. And you, Stiles, belonged to us.’ 

When he woke up, he realized two things. One, he didn’t sleep for long. It was still early in the morning and he could feel the tell-tale signs of his tired body. He could deal with it. Luckily, no one has noticed it yet. Two, the Nogitsune was gone. Somehow, that made him grit his teeth, angry and irritated. 

He shook the feeling off to focus on other things. He had to get to the station. He had to know what Meredith was on about. Why would she do this? He needed to be there. 

Lucky for him, Melissa came by at this very moment. He moved in a rush as he always did. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**_Omae_** ** _wa_** ** _mou_** ** _shindeiru_ **

Stiles felt good after a long time. The dead pool was terminated. He made up with Malia. Although, the dreams with the Nogitsune became a lot more frequent. They say it’s because of the concussion but he feels they are using their powers more because they are bored. Plus, he knows they’re confident that he will supply more than sufficient ‘food’ for them. 

**_Utsumuita_** ** _kono_** ** _odeko_** ** _tonton_** ** _tataita_** ** _no_** ** _wa_**   
**_Kimi nano kana?_** ** _chigau_** ** _no kana?_**   
**_Me wo_** ** _aketai_** ** _no_** ** _ni_** ** _mada_** ** _..._**

Nightmares, insomnia and everything else that came along with the whole Dementia package didn’t seem too bad at the moment. He sneaked into the hospital when Melissa wasn’t there, which was a feat on its own, and got a prescription for Dementia from the only other Doctor who knew. He couldn’t remember the name so he stuck to calling him Dr. Douche. He _did_ question Stiles way too much for it to be anything other than annoying. One might call it hospital procedures and the likes, but if the dude was willing to shut up about it with a bribe, then it was quite shitty of him. I mean, it wasn’t even that big a deal if he didn’t get the medication that he actually needed from this hospital for a while. He got it anyways. It’s for him, so was it really necessary for his Dad to be here. It clearly was way too early for him to be losing his mind. He should know, he’s been keeping track. He hasn’t lost track of time or made an embarrassment of himself yet. That aside, at least he got medication! 

**_kowain_** ** _da_**   
**_Yuuyake_** ** _tte_** ** _nan da ka_** ** _samishii_**   
**_Onegai_** ** _, matte_**

Kira and Scott were gonna go on their very first date and he was happy for them. Not to mention, it was always nice to wake up to a kiss from your girlfriend. A very happy girlfriend. Not only that, the debt from Eichen house was cleared. Stiles felt like this was the best he was going to get. He decided that he would take what he gets and run with it. 

**_Mou_** **_sugu_ ** **_motto_ ** **_motto_ ** **_yobu_ ** **_kara_ ** **_..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song list:  
> 1\. Onigumo to kitsune no Shishi to - Hatsune Miku & Gumi  
> 2\. Orchid - Off Bloom  
> 3\. Omae wa mou - Deadman 死人
> 
> Ayy~ Hope everyone liked this chapter! I honestly enjoy adding in songs even if it's a pain in the ass. I miiiight have done it cause no one really listens to my music taste until ten thooooouuusand years later. It's a curse. Not that anyone's meaning to do it. Hehe~  
> Welp! Until next time!  
> Love,  
> Sailingdreameater


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hewwo! Here's another chapter for you guys!  
> I've put up a big chunk cause I most probably wouldn't be uploading anything next week. Exams and all that.  
> Till two weeks from now, then!  
> Love,  
> Sailingdreameater<3

**_Ae le,_** ** _phir_** ** _aa_** ** _gaya_** ** _t_** ** _u_** ** _face_** ** _uthake_ **

Unfortunately for Stiles, good things wouldn’t last. Scott and Kira had been kidnapped and taken to Mexico to the temple by Kate and her berserkers. Which meant they had to go down there to get them back. 

**_Dum l_** ** _ega_** ** _kya_** ** _meri j_** ** _aan_** ** _khake_ **

Even worse was the fact that Peter decided to tag along, saying that they needed all the help they could get. That was never good. Derek was still dying and Liam decided to come along too. The whole thing was going to be done today because tonight was the full moon. Which made things even worse. 

**_Khoon_** ** _choosne_** ** _tu_** ** _aaya_** ** _khoon_** ** _choosne_**   
**_Bloody_** ** _khooni_** ** _Monday_** ** _kyun_** ** _aaya_** ** _khoon_** ** _choosne_**

Somehow, on the trip to Mexico the Nogitsune popped out once more. It happened when he held onto Kira’s sword. It looked around, humoured by the turn of events and simply smiled smugly at Stiles. He vehemently tried ignoring it. 

**_Tu_** ** _jaa_** ** _re_** ** _jaa_** ** _re_** ** _jaa_** ** _,_** ** _kabootar_** ** _jaa_ **

It taunted him on occasion, calling to his attention the intricacies of the plan. 

**_Main_** ** _nahi_** ** _jaana_** ** _, main_** ** _nahi_** ** _jaana_**   
**_Main_** ** _nahi_** ** _jaana_** ** _bistar ko_** ** _chhod_** ** _ke_**

‘Even for naïve wittle wolf boy-Scotty, this seems too suspicious, doesn't it? But of course, no one but you seem to think as much.’ They cupped their chin in one hand as they sat opposite him and beside Liam. ‘Peter seemed to know too much about Kate and the likes, doesn’t he?’ 

**_Khoon_** ** _choos_** ** _le_** ** _tu_** ** _mera_** ** _khoon_** ** _choos_** ** _le_**   
**_Bloody_** ** _khooni_** ** _Monday_** ** _tu_** ** _chahe_** ** _..._** ** _choos_** ** _le_**

‘I know,’ Stiles gritted out in his mind. Frankly, he didn’t care about that as much as certain other things. The fact that Malia sat alone with Peter was a lot more worrying. He doesn’t even want to think about Liam. Once the full moon is up, they’d have their hands full. 

**_Main_** ** _nahi_** ** _jaana_** ** _, main_** ** _nahi_** ** _jaana_ **

‘Don’t worry about it, Stiles. You seem to be worried about the most trivial matters,’ they whined. 

**_Main_** ** _nahi_** ** _jaana_** ** _bistar ko_** ** _chhod_** ** _k_** ** _e_ **

‘Sure. Yeah. It’s just some rabid wolf boy with anger issues that could snap me like a twig once he loses control. It’s only _very_ probable that that would happen. _Definitely_ a trivial issue.’ Stiles rubbed his forehead with both hands, hanging his head. 

**_Khoon_** ** _choos_** ** _le_** ** _tu_** ** _mera_** ** _khoon_** ** _choos_** ** _le_**   
**_Bloody_** ** _khooni_** ** _Monday_** ** _tu_** ** _chahe_** ** _khoon_** ** _choos_** ** _le_**

Derek locks Liam with handcuffs and Stiles can hear the chortle that makes its way out of the Nogitsune’s mouth. 

“All good,” Derek asks Liam. Liam tugs hard on the chains. It doesn’t budge. He looks up at Derek. 

“Okay. I brought something to help you,” Derek continues and pulls out the Triskelion from his pocket. “This has been with my family for centuries.” 

**_Sukoon_** ** _ke_** ** _shikaari_** ** _somwaar_ **

The Nogitsune has a full-blown laughing fit. They clutch their stomach as they look at Derek and his talisman. 

“It’s a very powerful, supernatural talisman,” Derek continues without knowing the existence of the entity that’s laughing at him. “We use it to teach young Betas how to control themselves on a full moon.” 

**_Kaan_** ** _khujana_** ** _,_** ** _kaan_** ** _khujana_**   
**_Kaan_** ** _khujana_** ** _ungli_** ** _ghusod_** ** _ke_**

He gives it to Liam who looks at it hopefully. Stiles is beginning to regret bringing Liam with them. 

‘Oh, I miss Derek already,’ the Nogitsune tells Stiles with a happy sigh. 

**_Khoon_** ** _choos_** ** _le_** ** _tu_** ** _mera_** ** _khoon_** ** _choos_** ** _le_ **

Derek on the other hand looks at him with a glare, wanting him to encourage Liam in a silent gesture. 

**_Bloody_** ** _khooni_** ** _Monday_** ** _tu_** ** _chahe_** ** _khoon_** ** _choos_** ** _le_ **

“Yes, it’s powerful,” Stiles lies to Liam and clears his throat. He squints at Liam to act serious. “Very powerful.” 

**_Chal j_** ** _aa_** ** _,_** ** _chal_** ** _jaa_ **

That seemed enough to convince Liam. The snicker from the Nogitsune is enough for Stiles’ nerves to shake. Yeah. He’s in for one hell of a night! 

**_Jaa_** ** _jaa_** ** _jaa_** ** _jaa_** ** _jaa_**   
**_Jaa_** ** _jaa_** ** _jaa_** ** _jaa_** ** _jaa_**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

As Malia threw the sword at him, Stiles could feel it. The fox part of him tingling. It tingled enough for him to wonder why his name was never on the list. Then again, Derek’s name was taken out of the list in the later part so he didn’t know what to think. Right now, though, he had to save Scott and Kira. 

As he walked through the maze, he wished Lydia was there with him. She would've been very helpful right now. Better yet, Malia. But she was busy fighting the berserker. He heard a sigh echo from the wells of his mind. 

‘You should’ve asked me,’ the nogitsune told him. ‘I could guide you.’ 

“Would you?” 

‘I do have a reputation that precedes me but I am not interested in any form of scheming as of now, Stiles. I’m simply offering to help you out.’ 

“It’s never just that with you,” he tells them while looking about with a flash light. The growl catches him off guard. He turns around to look for the source only to realize it’s from his mind. 

‘You are thinking of Peter. I am nothing like that grating mutt!’ It was angry and Stiles was groping in the dark without a clue, so he gives in. 

“Alright. Say you want to help. How would you even do that? You’re a voice in my head. I still don’t know if you’re real or not.” 

‘You don’t need to. I’d suggest you unsheathe the sword first,’ it said with amusement colouring their voice, all anger seemed to have been forgotten. Stiles does as he was told. He holds the katana with a practiced ease. It felt both familiar and alien at the same time. ‘You can feel the fox part of us grow stronger through the blade. It’s a guide to reach the kitsune that dwells within. In our case, only a part of it, which is why you don’t feel entirely comfortable with it.’ 

“Huh,” Stiles let out an exclamation of surprise. “I always thought you didn’t have the skill to wield weapons. Thought you were more of a ‘let the minions do the work’ kinda guy.” 

‘How rude,” it huffed, put off by his comment. “I am extremely skilled in the art of the sword. Infact, I have mastered multiple weaponry. I simply felt no need to display my skills for a bunch of teenage mutts. That was dishonourable and would not have levelled the playing field.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep better,” he mocks it. 

‘I’d pay more attention to my surroundings if I were you,’ they commented just as a Berserker made its way towards Stiles. Stiles’ body moved on its own. He moved with a fluidity he never knew his awkward body possessed and with a skill unlike anything else. 

“Woah,” he laughed, finding it thrilling. 

‘It seems its weak point is the skull over its head,’ they mused and without giving the creature time to counterattack, Stiles moved upward to crack the skull. The berserker’s skull shattered. A light glowed out of its seams and the whole body turned to dust. Stiles wasted no time in moving forward. He was met with another Berserker. He was only thrown around a little. That’s honestly a big win. Soon after killing the Berserker, Stiles found a desolate area. As soon as he felt something creep, he moved the katana with a swift aim to kill. 

“Wait, it’s me,” a voice squeaked. It was Kira. 

“Kira?” Stiles fumbled with the flash light only to see Kira, her neck beside the sword’s tip. He had nicked her a little. She was shocked. Stiles immediately moved to sheathe the sword and hand it over to her. She took it without a word. “You okay?” 

“It’s Scott,” she began urgently, getting back to the present. “Stiles, it’s Scott.” 

“What?” 

“The berserker. It’s him.” Stiles’ mind was reeling. “Kate did it.” 

“What are you talking about,” he asks, confused. 

“She made him into one of them,” she explains. “I don’t know how, but it’s him. If they don’t know it, they could kill him.” 

Stiles’ blood ran cold. That’s why the Nogitsune had no qualms in helping him. They were helping him _kill_ Scott. Stiles could feel the floor shake. Felt it uneven beneath his feet. He could’ve killed Scott. 

“Kira,” he began, nervously. “There were three. Two are already dead. The pack is handling the last. I’m sure they’ve already killed him.” 

“No. No. The ones that were guarding me are different.” Stiles sighs in relief. That’s when something else strikes his mind. 

“That’s why Lydia’s not here. They won’t know they’re killing Scott.” 

They run to save Scott. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------- 

It was the morning after the incident. He thought that was all. That that was it. Derek was going to leave and the whole charade with Kate, the Berserkers and even the Deadpool was dealt with. Nothing more to do except go home. He crawled into the Jeep to check out whether the stupid thing would work with something akin to a heavy heart but not really. He found himself somewhere between Scott who felt almost wrecked at Derek’s departure to Malia’s total and complete indifference. 

‘That’s a lie,’ the Nogitsune idly commented as it sat in the passenger seat, looking at him with folded hands laying casually on its lap and legs on the dash. He fumed silently, wanting to say what was on his mind but not being able to because no one else could see the bastard. Malia who was stuffing things in the back, raised her head to look at him curiously, a frown on her face as she sniffed at him. He waved his hand in dismissal and she went back to doing whatever she was before. ‘You don’t care as much as you believe yourself to. It’s funny, actually. How one thinks it’s the soul that makes up your conscience but it really is all in your head. And the smaller that gets, well, the less you feel. No heart. No soul. Of course, souls _do_ technically exist. But, Stiles... Do you even have a soul? Maybe you’re losing your soul along with your brain. As it shrinks, so does that little light inside you. Maybe by the end of this, you’ll end up a soulless bastard. Now wouldn’t _that_ be a sight for my sore eyes!’ 

It was a blatant jab; a direct hit. It was super effective. Only, Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to get anything but angry and frustrated. No guilt though and that only fuelled the anxiety more. 

Well, it would’ve if Derek didn’t waltz over to him. Derek shot a glance at Malia who got the picture, nodded and walked away. Stiles looked at Derek as the older male leaned in on the window, frowning at the anger he smelled. 

“You mad I’m leaving?” It was an earnest question hidden behind a joke but Stiles didn’t get it. He snorted. 

“Please,” he shot the wolf down with the wave of a hand. Silence fell between them and Stiles didn’t know if it was awkward or comfortable. It was always like that with Derek. It’s the one thing that didn’t change and he appreciated it, as weird as it was. Derek looked above the hood at the rising sun and then back down at Stiles who waited patiently for him to talk. Well, maybe with not as much patience as he wanted. “Don’t you have a ride to catch? With Braedon, I mean.” 

“She’s talking to Argent,” he answered, ignoring the sharp words, knowing that Stiles didn’t mean to be rude. He’s just like that. Predictable in his unpredictability. He grinned at Stiles. “So! We survived.” 

“I guess,” Stiles answered with a distant echo that made Derek frown. 

“I heard your name was one of the keys to the code,” he began slowly, testing the waters. Stiles hummed with that same mild tone and distance. 

“So was yours,” he added as if they were exchanging pleasantries. 

“Yeah,” Derek echoed and stood straight. There was going to be no way for him to figure out what Stiles thought and as such, he knew that pushing was never an option. The teen would just lie his way out even if Derek knew it was a lie. 

“How far are we from the Wolfy senses?” The abrupt question caught him off guard. It shouldn’t. Really. But it did and Derek was at a loss once more as to how he should deal with the human. 

“I’d say pretty,” he said without needing to look but doing so anyways. It was a way to comfort the teen, show him that he tried every once in a while. Stiles nodded and looked straight ahead. He hesitated “If this is about Malia being Peter’s daughter-” 

“The Nogitsune,” Stiles began, cutting off Derek and just like that, his blood ran cold. He watched Stiles intently but the teen remained impassive. No sign of fear or panic. Just... Tranquillity. The calmest he’s ever seen Stiles to be. “He wasn’t lying entirely.” 

**_Dark cloud like a gun_ **

“About what?” Derek didn’t like where this was going. Stiles exhaled through his mouth and looked straight in his eyes. 

**_Do you stay do you run_ **

“About the Dementia.” Just like that, the pieces fell into place. What Stiles meant, why his name had been one of the cyphers and why he was angrier these days. Stiles was still going to die. Sure, the medical field had advanced quite a bit over the years but there still was no actual cure for FTD. He knows. He read about it after the whole run in with the Nogitsune. His mouth fell into an O as he stared blankly at Stiles. 

**_Barrel pointed at the heart of the plains_ **

“Does-does anyone else know?” He scratched his beard and stared, searching for something, anything in Stiles’ face. Didn’t even know what he was searching for. 

“Apart from you? No one,” Stiles answered quietly. There was no sense of guilt in that sentence. In fact, there was nothing. No emotion. Cold. Stiles didn’t want to tell anyone then. What did he think would happen if he did? Did he think it was hassle? What even _was_ Stiles thinking? And why tell him? 

**_Green bird on the wire_ **

“Then why tell me?” He had to know. Stiles shrugged. 

“Thought maybe it’d be better to get it off of my chest,” he confessed and Derek didn’t know if he should feel honoured that Stiles thought of him or burdened now that he knew this. Honestly, when he decided to walk over to talk to Stiles, he jokingly thought that the most shocking thing that might come out of the teen’s mouth would be a confession of love or maybe some weird State secret he shouldn’t have. Not this! Not of his own slow death. 

**_Smoke before the fire_ **

“And is it?” Stiles shrugged again and squinted through the front glass, hands resting on the wheel. It suddenly clicked in Derek’s mind. “You’re telling me this because I won’t tell anyone. Anyone that matters, at least.” 

**_Dry leaves coil in a rattling chain_ **

There was silence as Stiles glanced at him shiftily and licked his bottom lip. So, that was true. Derek could feel the anger bubble in him but he knew getting angry would get him nowhere. Especially when said person constantly found new ways to push at his buttons. It didn’t stop his lips from quivering in silent rage and hurt. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” Derek asked in a low voice and watched angrily as Stiles just watched him with a glassy expression. As if his mind was elsewhere. He clenched his fists, trying to curb the instinct to punch him. “You want, what? Me to just walk away with the knowledge that a pack member is dying and be at peace with it?” 

**_Yellow edges the light_ **

“I told you what I did because I wanted someone to listen,” Stiles told him sharply. His eyes were blank as if there was no passion nor heat behind the words, not really. And that stood out as odd because that was not how the teen normally was. That stung Derek more than anything else. It hurt that a stupid illness did what a fricking Nogitsune couldn’t. What assassins couldn’t do. But Stiles didn’t stop there. “I don’t want some touchy-feely crap where everyone tries to find solutions to my... ‘condition’. And before you say anything else, Scott can’t help. You get me? The whole reason I’m telling you this is because.... I just wanted to get it off of my chest. I mean, c’mon. You know exactly how the rest are going to get. Scott with his vehement obsession-” 

**_Dust curls wind sighs_ **

“Isn’t any better than you,” Derek cut in, getting a chuckle out of Stiles which wavered as he smelled the concern from the teen and saw the quivering lips. Of course, the idiot has to worry about others even in this kind of situation! 

“Yeah. And Lydia,” Stiles trailed off, looking down and licking his shaky bottom lip before looking back into the wolf’s hazel eyes. “I don’t want pity. I don’t want fixing. I just... Wanna talk.” 

**_Like the moan of a faraway train_ **

Derek remained silent as he watched the glassy look be replaced by that mild helpless desperation in the human’s face. He hesitated, opening his mouth then closing it and doing the same with his clenched fists. He took a deep breath in and sighed. He made up his mind. 

“If you want me to just leave with a pat on your back, a funny quip and ride off into the sunset when you dropped this onto my lap, then you got another thing coming,” he growled and leaned further in through the window. Stiles smiled softly. It made him waver and he found it annoyingly unfair. But he didn’t know who the unfairness was directed at. Him or Stiles. 

**The rain came scattershot**

“Derek, you gotta leave,” Stiles said softly with that resigned smile and he scowls. The ‘you deserve it’ goes unsaid but implied heavily. Leave it to Stiles to decide what people need and don’t. Like some sort of Pack Mother. It only serves to make him more petulant and acutely aware of the slipping time and the creases in Stiles’ forehead. 

**_Taking aim with every drop_ **

“I don’t have to do anything you say, you idiot.” He huffs and rolls his eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Stiles simply laughs, the sound bubbly. It should be loud but its surprisingly quiet and feels weirdly like they’re sharing a private joke. 

**_Doesn't care where it's been or where it's bound_ **

“See ya around sometime, then, Grumps,” he jokes with a toothy grin that has him caught with too many emotions and he doesn’t know if he should frown or smile. He pulls off something between a grimace and a grin, eyes pained and Stiles ignores it entirely. 

**_It's coming scattershot and it wants another round_ **

“Call,” he warns meaningfully. He looks at him carefully, weary of some ill-timed joke the younger might throw but nothing came. Only a smile and a nod. He nods back, head firm, body tight. 

They don’t hug. Derek simply walks away hoping that Stiles did actually feel relieved after getting it out of his chest. He felt guilty for leaving the teen behind just like that but he knew there was nothing he could do. Only serve to strengthen the scent of sorrow that would bloom if he were to remain in Beacon Hills. Like a Rafflesia. 

Braedon watches him with a tilt to her head, wondering what’s got him all quiet. He shakes his head and smiles a little pained smile. Breaden raises an eyebrow and he knows she’s going to ask later. As of now, she returns his smile with a warm smile of her own and he feels his heart stutter before he overthinks like he always does. Wonders if he truly deserved this. This happy sailing off into the sunset with the one he loved or if he should stay. He turned to look at the pack talking amongst themselves. They were busy packing for the trip back. Chattering like the high school kids they were. Only Stiles looked right at him. He smiled a knowing smile and nodded, urging him into taking the next step towards his reprieve. Sometimes Stiles looked older than he was. 

He snorted. Like a Pack Mother alright. 

\------------------------------------------------------------- 

**_You with the sad smile, don't lose your courage, courage_ **

They were all ready to go back home and Scott kissed Kira, happy that the pack was fine. As Stiles looked at Derek, he felt glad that he survived. It showed how strong they all were to escape the predictions of a Banshee. Apart from him that is. He still felt at peace. Well, for the most part. His anxiety never ceased but there was nothing that could make him feel like he was in dire need of some Eldrich deity’s powers to change things. Everything was relatively fine now. Except, as he looked at Derek smirk at him before going over to the van, he realized that maybe Derek should stay. Stay instead of his insistence on leaving every time. He had always felt that way when it came to Derek. As annoying as it was to deal with Derek and his poor attitude, he was also the one who he could understand the most. 

**_Dance in the high tide and don't be worried, worried_ **

‘Maybe I shouldn't have told Derek at least,’ he thought forlornly. ‘Maybe I should just listen to him and tell the others. It can’t be that bad.’ 

**_Your soul's in a wild fire, feel it beating, beating,_ **

Just as the thought passed his mind, he was also quick to disperse it. He decided that he’d deal with this, as far as possible, alone. No one could find out about him. Not even his Dad. 

**_beat-beating_ **

He looked over at Scott, glad his best friend was alright, who was then talking to Derek when Kira walked over to Stiles quietly and spoke. 

**_Dreams on a gold wire, won't you believe_ ** **_it?,_** ** _-l_** ** _ieve_ ** **_it_ **

“Last night. In the temple,” she began carefully. “You handled the katana very well. I didn’t know you knew how to.” 

**_We're all animals out in the dark_ **

“I don’t,” he told her honestly even as he looked on at Scott, hands shoved in his pockets and a frown creeping up on his face. “It’s the remnants.” 

**_Got a feeling that we're all believing in_ **

“..... Remnants the Nogitsune left behind?” 

**_Not waiting for daylight to start_ **

“Yeah. I don’t care as long as it’s not in me anymore. And hey, it works. So,” he trailed off with a shrug. He glanced at Kira who simply nodded and gave him a ‘I’m glad you’re fine,’ smile. 

**_We're over the moon, over the midnight moon_ **

He smiled in return. Turning to Malia, who didn’t know what they were talking about nor did she care. 

**_Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_ **

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” he told her with a playful nudge to her arm. She paused before looking carefully at him. 

**_Over the moon, over the midnight moon_ **

“Yeah,” she agreed with a small smile. “I guess you did.” 

**_Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_ **

“It’s my superpower,” he joked and she welcomed it with a kiss. 

**_Over the moon, over the midnight moon_ **

It was the same with Lydia as it was with Malia. When they went back to Beacon Hills, and after his Dad freed him from the cuffs, he met with Lydia. He helped her tidy up the old boathouse. She then told him her side of the story and listened to what happened in Mexico. 

**_We're over the moon, over the midnight moon_ **

“So,” he exclaimed smugly, face scrunched in a funny shit-eating grin. 

**_We are going over, we are going over, over_ **

“So?” She didn’t get where he was going with this. 

“Derek, Scott and me,” he explained, making vague hand gestures. “We’re all fine. None of us died.” 

**_We are going over, we are going over, over_ **

“No, you didn’t,” she smiled at him with a tired yet adoring look. 

“Lyds, we’re never gonna die,” he assures her. “It’s just how we are. Like cockroaches!” 

She laughs at his waggling eyebrows and quirky gestures before sighing happily. 

**_We are going over, we are going over, over_ **

‘Yes. Lie to her, Stiles. That way when you _do_ die, it’ll be even more devastating,’ a voice mocked him but he pointedly ignored it. He made sure his smile wouldn’t slip. 

“No one’s going to die anymore,” he told Lydia half seriously and she hugs him, relieved that she didn’t have to see anymore of her friends die. He hides his face behind her back. “No one.” 

**_We are going over, over_ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Stiles walked into his house tired like never before. His head ached and there was a buzz of thoughts that went around and around. At least the Nogitsune wasn’t there to taunt him. God knows he would try punching the demonic ass even if he knew logically that that wouldn’t work. He had better chances of punching Professor Harris. 

Stiles slammed the door to his house and trudged on to the bathroom as he looked only at the floor. Somehow, he felt like he needed to look at the floor or something bad would happen. As if prompted by such thoughts, he became hyper aware of the fact that something was there moving in his near vicinity. Time seemed to slow down into a crawl. Stiles scratched his wrist. His heart began pounding as he began creeping slowly into the bathroom. Something was there. He _knows_ that something is there. 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Thump. 

He opened the door to the bathroom slowly. Stiles dared not look up. The mirror was right before him so he would see what’s in it. Or rather, what’s _behind_ him. 

Someone’s following him. No. _S_ _cratch-scratch._

Some _thing_ is following him. 

‘Don’t look up, Stiles,’ he mentally warned himself over and over again. ‘Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.’ 

His heart thumped louder. The sink tap dripped. After wanting to save money for all his medical bills and the other bills, they decided not to call the plumber, leaving behind a leaky faucet. Right now, each droplet that fell made Stiles twitch and irritable. The fear of being followed coupled with his racing heart and the leaky faucet made him just about ready to tear a hole in his body and crawl out of it. He scratched his wrist hard. It turned an angry red. 

The lights above flickered. 

“Don’t look up,” he whispered to himself, walking further into the bath area without closing the door. He came here to bathe and so, he eyed the bottom of the tub as he made his way to it. Fear clutching his heart and making it leap to his throat. “Don’t look up.” 

Normally, he would be curious. Curiosity always winning over the alternative. But this time was different. He didn’t know why. Just that if he saw the thing... If he saw it- 

Thump. 

Scratch- 

Thump. 

Drip. 

Thump. 

Drip. 

Drip. 

Scratch-scratch. 

Drip. 

Thump. 

Scratch-scratch. 

Thump- 

“Fuck. _Fuck_ ,” he swore as the room grew colder and his breath came out frosty. Mist curling out of his mouth as he panted, pretty sure he was going into a panic attack and trying hard to swallow it back for fear of attracting any more attention from the thing. 

Why was it so dark in broad daylight? 

Why was it so cold? 

What’s going on? 

His head couldn’t comprehend anything, a complete mush as it was. He turned on the tap to the tub and dropped slowly to his knees, feeling as if staying as close to the floor as possible would help. 

‘Get a bath, get out,’ he planned in his head, repeating it over and over as the bathtub filled up with water. 

Once it was filled up, Stiles got inside with his clothes. The cold was too much to bear. He needed his clothes. He shivered. The water was cold too. He didn’t dare look up or even straight. Just down. Down into the water that rippled around him. His lips were probably blue already. 

He scratched his wrist once more. 

His biggest mistake was looking down into the water. He should’ve known. _Water is a reflective surface._ And as he watched the rippling clear liquid, another face began forming as if out of thin air. A pale, almost grey face that became more and more clear to Stiles. His eyes widened when he realized who it was. When he realized who the face belonged to. 

Head shooting up, he watched as Allison sat before him, crouching over the tub, legs balanced precariously but firmly on either side as she watched him with cold, dead eyes. They weren’t even eyes anymore. They were glass. 

“No,” he gasped horrified as he tried moving backwards and away from the ghost of his dead friend. But there was nowhere to go. She tilted her head eerily as she looked straight through him. As if she knew exactly what he thought and knew every single one of his sins. 

“You thought you could live?” Her rasping voice accompanied her snarling and disgust. A hand shot up to his throat as she strangled him with just one. He tried to dislodge it, but the grip was too strong, and he flailed about, gasping in vain for air. Allison’s eyes held nothing behind them, but her words bit colder than the air or water around him. “You don’t deserve to after what you did.” 

“I didn’t do it,” he struggled to get out, but she wouldn’t hear him. In an instant, his head was dunked underwater but not before hitting the top of the tub. Anguish built up along with panic. Stiles had the dawning realization that this was it. He was going to die like this, and no amount of struggling would help. Neither Malia nor Dad was home. There was no one to help him. 

No one. Except the hand that pushed him further in and held him beneath the water. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Stiles finally let go. He didn’t fight Allison. Afterall, it was his fault. He closed his eyes and let himself sink further into the depths as his vision began dimming either ways. 

Allison was laughing a high-pitched laugh that sounded nothing like the innocent girl he knew. She probably really hated him. Especially now after leaving that monster roam beneath his skin. He should’ve told Scott even if it wouldn’t help anyone. At least this way, he could drag the bastard down with him. 

Cold. 

It’s cold. 

Gasp- 

Stiles jerked forward and out of the water. He leaned over the side of the tub and coughed, finding there to be no signs of Allison ever being there. The lights were on. The room was bright. The door open. He was sitting in the tub with all his clothes including his shoes and he was shivering from the cold water that filled it. He crawled out of the tub panting and gasping for air as he laid flat on his back on the bathroom floor. 

It came to him that his body had jerked out of the water as an automatic response to drowning and he didn’t know if he should be relieved at that or ticked off. 

His anger only grew as the day began wanning to night. Stiles absently thought of the Allison he saw and his own reactions as he cut the vegetables for dinner. As he did so, his hands didn’t stop shaking. 

When he cut his finger, he threw the knife in blind rage. It flew past the kitchen and into the living room. He sighed and ignored it. Refusing to go and pick up the knife, he picked another from the drawer and continued his work. 

His lips were red, raw and bleeding by the time his Dad came home and dinner was served. Luckily, he had the common sense to remove the offending blade lying on the floor of the living room before the Sheriff could even step inside. 

“Why are your shoes wet?” His Dad commented as he passed the shoe rack to chuck his jacket onto the nearest chair. 

“Did something stupid,” Stiles stated gruffly, not delving into it any further as he placed the plates on the table. He refused to meet his Dad’s eyes. The Sheriff simply considered the statement, shrugged and took a seat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song list:  
> 1\. Khoon choos le - Arjun Kanungo, Priya Saraiya and Suraj Jagan  
> 2\. Scattershot - Caitlin Canty  
> 3\. Midnight moon - Oh Wonder
> 
> So! That's it for this chapter... I'm not sure how accurately I depicted the issues of someone who suffers from FTD. So, I hope this came out well. I'm always open for pointers!  
> Drop a kudos if you guys liked it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So, I'm done with my exams. And last Sunday I know I should've updated but I was too lazy. So, here's a late update. Also, I realized that the size of the last update was not as big as I imagined it to be. That's why, this time, I made sure I post a big one!  
> Another thing, I decided to put the song list before the chapter so you know what I've used in advance (better immersion I guess hehe)
> 
> Songs list:  
> Mitsubachi - Mili  
> Back in school - Mother mother  
> Fukashigi no carte - Rascal does not dream of bunny girl senpai (that's the anime. The singers are the female cast)  
> The great escape - Patrick Watson  
> It's strange - Louis the child & K.Flay

That night as he fell asleep after downing a tranquilizer, he finds himself in a familiar dream. 

He stalks up to the Nemeton. To the entity that sat atop it. He remembered the night in the temple clearly. He remembered fighting the Berserkers and knew that the Nogitsune lied to him again. He was pissed. 

The nogitsune sat there with no pretence whatsoever. It simply smiled at him. That made Stiles angrier. 

“You knew, didn’t you,” he accused it with barely concealed rage. It had the audacity to look innocently at him. 

“Knew what, Stiles?” 

“You know exactly what I mean!” He walked up and down, moving his hands about in shaky, jolting movements. “That night in the temple. I could’ve killed Scott.” 

“You could’ve,” it replied calmly, “but you didn’t.” 

“I could’ve! This is all cause of your powers! You lied to me. You knew if I’d just kept at it, I would have killed Scott.” 

There was a chill in the air. As Stiles looked at the Nogitsune, he could see the anger in its eyes even as it smiled at him. 

“You think I had planned for that to happen,” he asked with a shrill laugh. It almost hurt Stiles’ ears. “No. No, I wouldn’t have planned for something so _boring_.” 

**_Mushikago ni t_** ** _sumekonda_** ** _no_** ** _wa_ **

The room devolved. Stiles found himself in sheer darkness. He knew this place too. This was the core of it all. This was the true form of the Nogitsune. An endless, all-consuming _void_ that threatened to remove him, _remould_ him into being one with the void. It was suffocating and comforting at the same time. He was free in the nothingness yet felt it grappling him into a prison that he couldn’t even fathom. But after spending one too many days inside here, joined with the void, it was enough for it to tempt him like heroin. He felt it tug at him at the seams of his very being and all he could do was moan at the sensation. 

“Let me tell you, Stiles. _You_ trapped me,” it spoke, and the voice sent shivers down his spine. 

**_Tada nozoki_ ** **_mitasu_** ** _tame_** ** _ni_ **

“You deserved it,” he panted against the thing. It hissed and tugged even harder. He groaned in pain. A pain that even the body could not feel. It burned him. It hurt in a way he couldn’t even begin to place and he felt like he was truly in hell. 

“Do not interrupt me,” it ground out each word. “You trapped me, and I am stuck in a box, Stiles. In a powerful wooden trap box somewhere whose location I cannot possibly make out. The _only_ reason I can let you access a portion of my power is not _only_ because I let you, but also the fact that _you_ need to draw and channel it. I am trapped but you are not. Do you get it now, you idiot?” 

**_Mitsubachi_** ** _ga_** ** _sashita_** ** _ude_** ** _no_ **

The wheels begin to turn in Stiles’ head. He wouldn’t have trusted their words, but he knew it wasn’t lying. He knew because it made more sense. It didn’t seem to calm his rage though. 

“Try being a bit more thankful,” it suggested sarcastically, its own rage punctuating every word. “If not for my skill, you wouldn’t even have met Kira. The Berserkers would’ve mauled you like the savage beasts they are.” 

**_Akai hare wo mitsume_ **

That seemed to calm him down. It sensed that and let out a dark chuckle. 

“That’s right. Come to your senses yet? Good. Because I have a lot more to see. While I like to see your sheer willingness to die, I still haven’t been given the show I am here for.” 

“Fuck off,” he spat, still panting even as the void stopped tugging at him and instead wanted to envelope him. He tried pushing it away even though he knew it was useless. 

**_Futatsu_** ** _no_** ** _kao_** ** _wo motsu_**   
**_Dare da ttesou_** ** _desho_**

“What? No sarcastic quips to spare?” It laughed and continued on with a perverted sort of excitement. “I just can’t wait to see it, Stiles. I have possessed plenty of people before, but they never seem to hold a candle to you. Ah, I’ll always cherish you!” 

**_Kimi_** ** _wa_** ** _chigau_** ** _no?_**   
**_Yume mitenaide_**

“Cherish me all you want in that pickle jar prison of yours, you fucking fly prick!” At this point Stiles just let go of the void, letting it do whatever it wished. He couldn’t care less. The void simply laughed once more. The mania was almost palpable. 

**_Kimi_** ** _ga_** ** _nanimono_** ** _demo_** ** _wakatte_** ** _ageru_** ** _kara_**   
**_Ima wa_** ** _dakishimeru_** ** _dake_** ** _de ii_**

“You think I’ll be stuck there for all of eternity? Oh, no. No. Of course, not! Just like you and your little pack mates set us free, so will another fool come around to do so,” it spoke silkily. It wasn’t like Stiles never worried about that. He always did, being ever the paranoid idiot. But, hearing it out loud made him queasy. At the same time, the voice and the senses that surrounded him made him feel anything but awful. “But before all that, I will watch you lose _everything_ ! Lying, hurting everyone around you. Oh! That would be the least of it, I’m sure. I always knew more about you than anyone else. More than your Dad. More than Scott. And I _know_ what you think about everything. About Scott’s methods. About the pack. About trust? You aren’t just paranoid, you want things. You want to be in charge here. But just that is fine. No. That’s not all. 

**_C’est_** ** _l’esprit_** ** _de la ruche_**   
**_Hana wo sakashite_**

“What’s really interesting, you see, is you! Your need for power. Your need to _control_ everything. You can lie to yourself all about it. You can convince yourself that you don’t want it. And maybe you might’ve succeeded in deluding yourself, _abstaining_ yourself from us. Maybe you think that it is okay to lose control. But we both know that, in the end, you cannot stay away from what we had. What I gave you. What we were. 

**_Avec_** ** _une_** ** _puissance terrible_**   
**_Keshiki wa_** ** _irozuku_**

“Want to know what’s even better? Your lack of aversion when it comes to killing. You little _liar_ . If only Scott knew! If only he knew that you wished he’d killed Peter. The Alpha pack. _You!_ Just so the same thing wouldn’t happen. And you’d be right because I’m right here, in your noggin. If it were me, I’d agree. But this is Scott, isn’t it? _The True Alpha!_ He wouldn’t justify it would he? No. I don’t think he will. And what if you, with your ‘questionable morals’ and failing mental health decide to off someone?” 

**_Le_** ** _goût_** ** _du bonheur_**   
**_Watashi dake demo_**

“No,” Stiles finally whispered softly, tears spilling out freely. The void seemed to comfort him, oddly and he could only lean further into its embrace even as it spoke like so. He knew it was right anyways. The void only seemed to continue its playful tug over his body. He could feel himself sinking in its embrace. 

“I would love to see it all, Stiles. So, show it all to me. Show me how you’re going to break.” 

**_Tu ne_** ** _veux_** ** _même_** ** _pas y croire_**   
**_Shinjiteite ageru_** ** _wa_**

\------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**_I_** ** _wanna_** ** _get it_ **

Somewhere in his mind, he knew was getting worse. It should be impossible to figure it out for himself but he did. He was definitely getting worse. He could _feel_ it. More nightmares, less sleep. More anger, more irritation. He couldn’t seem to decide between yelling at someone or beating the crap out of them. Not that he was strong enough to do so. Still, he found himself, more often than not, positively homicidal. 

**_But I got bad brains_ **

He had to be more careful. He secretly cuffed himself to his bed so he doesn’t sleepwalk. His Dad caught him do that once. Luckily, Malia happened to be there and distract his Dad. Unfortunately, that gave rise to a different kind of conversation he sure as hell didn’t want to have with his Dad. Fortunately, his Dad let things be with no more than a raised eyebrow and hands raised to the sky in askance for particular insight into his son’s mind. That wouldn’t happen again. The sleepwalking. Not the cuffing. He needed that. 

**_I'm what they like to call a special case_ **

Malia stayed over at her own house more often now that she had more control. Mr. Tate didn’t like that she went to his house much anyways. He made a point to show his dislike every time he came over by flashing his gun and hunting skills. It didn’t scare Stiles anymore what with being used to hunters and almost dying a couple of times. He should only find it funny but recently, he’s been itching to punch the man in the face. Logically, he knew that he’d lose the fight to the guy which is why he didn’t do anything. Self-preservation and all that. 

**_I am a coma in a classroom_ **

Malia on the other hand was able to smell his constant irritation. The thing was, his anger and frustration was so often that she just chalked it up to be in his nature at this point. Lucky him. 

**_I got detention cause I made a face_ **

When Malia _did_ stay over at his place, she would hold him down too tight for him to even try moving. So, that was all good. But the nightmares were the worst. Malia way too good at handling it. Apparently, she knew how it felt to wake up horrified at the thought of having all her family dead and by her feet. 

**_Nobody believed me that it's stuck that way_**

Dad though? He couldn’t hide it much from the man but Stiles was smart. He had already convinced his Dad that it was probably just PTSD. It wasn’t that far-fetched for a teenager who’s seen more death and destruction than the average person. What it did though was make his Dad more proactive in his work. Making sure Stiles snooped less while he worked more diligently; which was a feat knowing how hard he worked in the first place, hired new and less corrupt officers who _wouldn’t_ burn a couple of teenagers or fellow officers, and generally being busier. 

**_I am a stoner in the bathroom_ **

Recently, Stiles knew Dad was facing problems with his old partner’s son, Donovan who seemed to be a problem kid. Anger issues. Not like Liam, but anger issues nonetheless. He saw his Dad sigh and shake his head at the very mention of the kid and frankly, Stiles wished the kid got a punch in the face instead of therapy and a lawyer. 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in place_**

Speaking of rage, school continued on like usual. He knew the pack was genuinely happy that they got a break from all the Supernatural but Stiles still found school difficult. He couldn’t help but get tense. How long until he couldn’t go to school? He already had a slight language difficulty. Senior year was about to begin and he didn’t know if he could make it through that. Sure, he didn’t have much plans for after school. He just planned on doing some random tech related undergrad program but he didn’t think he could even make it through school in the first place. 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in chains_**

His constant worry set Scott off who never stopped looking at him with concern even after Malia stopped. 

“You alright, man?” He’d often ask. 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in my cage_**

“Yeah, fine,” he’d always reply. Both of them knew he was lying but Scott knew better than to press. This time, Stiles volunteered information on his own. 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in place_**

“It’s just that senior year is almost here and I have no idea what I’m going to do after that. I mean, we’re all going to go our separate ways and that sucks,” he confessed to Scott. It was partially the truth. He played with his fingers and didn’t look up at Scott. Scott put a hand on his shoulder and held him. 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in chains_**

“I know,” he agreed, voice solemn. “But, that’s part of growing up. We have to, some day.” 

“I know, Scotty,” he replied, upset. He couldn’t handle it. Instead of tearing up, he let his mind whir before he got an epiphany. He looked at Scott with wide eyes and grabbed him. “I got it. The best idea. Hear me out.” 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in my cage_**

“Alright,” Scott agreed with an amused look. He sat back on Stiles’ bed, pillow in hand while Stiles got pamphlets upon pamphlets of universities open before them. 

“I was thinking,” he spoke in a rush, gesturing with his hands and marking universities here and there. “We don’t need to separate once high school is over. We could apply to the same universities! That way, no one is left behind.” 

**_I_** ** _wanna_** ** _get it_**   
**_But I got bad brains_**

“That’s a great idea,” Scott told him with a soft smile. ‘But it wouldn’t work,’ was left unsaid. Stiles pointedly ignored it. He didn’t know if he could even finish school so, he could at least dream. And no one’s going to pry his dream from him. 

**_I'm a what they call a special case_ **

“Well, with my grades, I could get in quite a few schools. But Lydia is definitely going to go into an ivy league school. I could try, but then I’d be leaving you behind. No, don’t try to hide it, I know how bad your grades are. Yeah, it’s better than before but it’s still lacking quite a bit. You _do_ remember we missed a lot of classes too, don’t you? Doesn’t matter. We’ll try to up it once we’re in senior year. Provided no other Supernatural dick comes waltzing in here. Which, frankly, is a long shot. That aside, Kira can get in anywhere too so you don’t have to worry about being separated from her, Scotty-boy. 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in my cage_**

“Anyways, so we gotta look for universities that are near ivy leagues and of course, we need to think about Malia. Well, that is if Malia doesn’t fail senior year.... We’ll decide what to do about her later.” 

**_I got detention cause I made a face_**   
**_Nobody believed me that it's stuck that way_**

As Stiles spoke more and more about the ‘plan’, he could feel himself get better. Scott would’ve felt it too as he began smiling more genuinely, wishing for the same unlikely dream. 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in my cage_**

It was bittersweet and Stiles could almost ignore the figure of a very pale Allison sitting beside Scott, a gaping wound in her chest and tears spilling down her cheeks, silent. Well, it’s nice to know that he wasn’t completely lying to Dad. He still had a bit of PTSD left in him that came out from time to time. 

**_Back in school_**   
**_Back in my cage_**

\------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The nights were the worst. He could lie awake in bed and hear screams of people he knew. He could hear his Mom shrieking and cursing at him from across the room or sometimes whisper nasty things in his ears. Sometimes, he’d see Allison stand there. Mostly silent except for the soft whimpers and sniffling. The worst times were when he was beside Scott and the echoing voice of Allison whispered things that hurt to hear. He’d have to force himself to realize he was dreaming then. Sometimes, there were things even _he_ couldn’t think up that came up as he dreamt on. Dreams where his Dad or the pack hated him. Being killed, killing, watching people die? You’d think that was terrible, but Stiles’ nightmares exceeded his expectations and frankly, Stiles was impressed at how fucked up his brain had gotten. He also cared less. As long as things didn’t bother him much or bring him inconveniences, he’s fine. That being said, he’d actively beat people up bloody in his dreams. And that? That scared him more than anything else. 

Somehow, the least terrifying part were the ‘dreams’ with the Nogitsune. While they still mocked and hurt him, he could feel it isn’t as bad as it once was. They had mellowed down. Or he got used to their particular sense of humour. He couldn’t differentiate. 

Either ways, it was fine. It made him comfortable, oddly enough. Sure, he hated the creature plaguing his mind, but at this point, he’d prefer them to his own nightmares. Besides, all they did was taunt and laze around in his mind. They could deny it but he knew they were simply lazing about. Playing Go, Chess, drinking tea, urging him to watch or read something in Japanese because the Nogitsune could only see what he sees. He’d watch some cheap bad hentai just to piss the guy instead. 

They sometimes told him anecdotes from their long life and that was always interesting. There was a time he quoted a popular tale from a story about kitsunes Stiles had read and he was surprised and also found it hilarious. 

“You panicked and ran away naked?” Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I did,” they agreed with a smile that only came with age and resignation. 

“Naked?” 

“Yes, Stiles, naked,” they huffed, slightly annoyed. “To be fair, the water was positively _scalding.”_

Stiles couldn’t breathe, choking up with laughter. 

“Either ways, it proves my point. You humans only care about the appearance,” they tell him sagely as they continue sipping tea. “I provided them with a vast array of knowledge and the second they see me transform into another; they shun me. Which is why I don’t like humanity.” 

“You ran out of the bath _naked_ and covered in _fox fur._ Anyone would lose it!” 

“It doesn’t take much to overcome shock, now does it?” 

“People were stupid back then! Remember the Salem Witch Trials?” 

“People have always been stupid. They still are, _boke_. Or did you forget what happened last night?” 

“Well, yeah. Okay. Yeah, Liam _did_ run naked under the influence of the full moon but,” Stiles stressed with a finger, “he is also a Supernatural being.” 

There was a pause when the Nogitsune looked at him with a raised eyebrow and the silent words were left unsaid but Stiles knew. The ‘Do you want me to remind you of your embarrassing moments?’ look. He threw back a ‘Don’t you dare,’ glare and received a smirk instead. 

“Point is, humanity doesn’t need us to help it. So, your idiot Alpha can stop with his running hero complex.” 

“You’re right. But humanity also doesn’t need someone killing it,” he spoke grim with the remnant feelings of loss lingering. He wasn’t going to forgive the Nogitsune anytime soon. 

The entity only frowned into their cup without a word in reply. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

No matter how many of those dreams were filled with Nogitsune, he’d still find a majority of them were nightmares that he loathed to be in. His brain seemed to melt and he’d want to tear at his skin and destroy whatever was left of him. 

Gore spilled on the floor as he ripped and tore off pieces of himself in rage, hate, anxiety and fear. Fear being the ruler of his little world. He would cry sometimes and scream at other times. The pain of tearing himself being less painful when compared to the horrors he’d face in his sleep. 

The worst thing was, when it began, it took him close to forever to figure out what was real and what was a nightmare. It destroyed him from the inside out. Desensitizing him, chilling him, making him apathetic as the days dragged on. And when he screamed in horror, it was more in frustration of not being able to figure head from toe rather than what he’d see. Because somewhere down the line he felt that as long as he survived, he could fix things. And so, he’d make sure he lived through his nightmares and became more and more apathetic to the death that surrounded him in the dreams. 

When he _did_ scream himself awake, for he was still not entirely apathetic of the death he’d see nor the torturous moments, Malia seemed to calm him down. She’d hold him down as usual and shut him up through any means she could. At first she let things go but as the frequency of nightmares increased, she finally decided to put her foot down. 

She looked at him after one particular heavy nightmare that made his entire being wet with sweat through and through and he could only sigh. He knew it was a long time coming and prepared to lie in a way she wouldn’t know it was a lie. He was getting better at white lies, as if it were a currency that only he could use. And he intends to use it well. 

“It’s getting worse,” she shot out, point blank. He hums in reply, still panting after the hellish things he had seen in his nightmares. They still played like an episode recap in the back of his eyelids. She scoffed at his reaction. “You’re not ignoring this.” 

“Mal, I can’t do that even if I wanted to.” He lets out a humourless chuckle. She frowns even more, making it seem funny for him but he knows she’s just worried about him. 

“Why’s it getting worse?” 

He shrugs his shoulder not wanting to disclose the truth. He’d finally caught his breath and felt too tired to stay awake but too restless to sleep. She creeps closer to him and spoons him, placing kisses in the crook of his neck and he lets her. It doesn’t comfort him but he lets her do whatever she thinks might help him. Something might stick and actually comfort him. She divulges into biting his neck, sucking at it and making him moan. 

‘Oh,’ is all he can think as she turns him to face her makes out with him. She planned on taking his mind off of the nightmares. Stiles loved the sensations but he just wanted a break from it all. And so, he put up a hand. 

“Whoa, hey,” he stopped her with a trademark awkward smile. “Can we just, I don’t know, spoon instead?” 

“Sure,” Malia tells him generously with a tad bit confusion. She still didn’t get the concept of things being different for each person but she was getting there. “Anything you want.” 

He smiles and kisses her once more in gratitude, hands moving into her hair. There was a comfortable silence before Malia decided to break it once more. 

“Is there anything that can be done? To help with the nightmares, I mean.” 

“Pills,” he mumbles as he vaguely points towards his dresser. 

“Well, then, you should change them. They don’t work.” That makes Stiles laugh even if it was a bit harsh. 

“Yeah. You’re right.” He thinks back to the time his Mom had to take them. The sheer quantity and the side effects.... “They don’t work.” 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**_Katarenai_** ** _nemurenai_** ** _toroimerai_**   
**_Anata no_** ** _miteru_** ** _shōtai_**

Stiles was a happy drunk. And right now? He was close to getting wasted. Which, given his alcohol tolerance rate, was pretty high. 

He sat there on the kitchen floor with his Dad’s secret stash that was rarely opened since his Dad quit drinking. Few months after the Nogitsune told him that he was the only one able to draw on the Nogitsune’s powers, he faithfully decided to increase his alcohol tolerance by downing two whole big bottles full of cheap whiskey. The began rolling the empty bottle of Old Crow with one hand on the floor while he sipped at the RE in his other. He giggled at the thought of the misuse and his apparent genius. 

**_Dare_** ** _mo_** ** _yomenai_** ** _karute_**   
**_Fukashigi_** ** _shiritai_** ** _dake_**

In his defence, Stiles decided he earned the right to drink. He wasn’t new to drinking. And he didn’t think there was any other time he’d get other than the present. Dad wasn’t going to be home tonight and would be home only by the next night which gave him enough time to sober up and clean his mess. Not to mention there’d be no one except his own hallucinated version of the Nogitsune to judge him. And right now, as he downed a mouthful of throat burning Whisky, he decided that even that wasn’t going to happen as he could clearly see that the look of the Nogitsune was blurring out. The letters on the bottle were blurred but now he wouldn’t know if it was his brain or the drunkenness. He could feel himself smile as all the worries washed away and he wondered why he hadn’t done this before. This was way better than the pills. Of course, the cheap drinks tasted like crap but at least they gave him what he wanted. 

**_Uso_** ** _mo_** ** _genjitsu_** ** _mo_**   
**_Docchi_** ** _mo_** ** _shinjitsu_** ** _datta_** ** _no_** ** _yo_** ** _hontō_** ** _yo_**

“What the hell,” a voice called out from the entrance of the kitchen. Stiles moved his head to see his Dad standing looking down at the mess he made frowning, feeling confused or angry he didn’t know. He didn’t care either. 

“Yo, Daddio,” he greeted with a grin, feeling just as happy and giggling. He beckoned his Dad over to the floor with a hand waving about in his general direction. “C’mon, have some o’ this!” 

**_Uyamuya_** ** _sayonara_** ** _karui_** ** _memai_ **

His Dad looked confused before folding his arms and leaning on the archway. 

“Frankly, I don’t even know how you got your hands on my secret stash. Even I forgot about its existence.” 

**_Anata no i_** ** _nai_** ** _genshō_ ** **_-kai_ **

“Yeah,” Stiles drawled, taking another swig from the bottle. “I knew where it was cause I always know. Stupid.” 

While the Sheriff was taken back by his words, he quickly shrugged it off before crouching beside Stiles. Stiles offered him the bottle. 

“Are you gonna talk about it,” he asked Stiles and Stiles scoffed. 

**_Dare_** ** _mo_** ** _yomenai_** ** _karute_ **

“No.” He giggled some more. So, the Sheriff sighed and sat beside Stiles and took the offered bottle drinking deep. 

“Alright,” he sighed and gave the bottle back. “I’ll bite. Let’s drink.” 

“Yea-hes,” Stiles cheered with a slight whoop, patting his Dad and took another swig. 

**_Ji_** ** _ishiki_** ** _afuredashite_ **

\------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Next day Stiles woke up with a head splitting hangover and found himself laid down comfortably in his bed and wondered if his Dad brought him there. He didn’t need to think on that when his Dad walked in with Aspirin and some weird concoction in his hand. He smiled at Stiles and took a seat beside him on the bed as Stiles sat up. 

**_Hey child, things are looking down_ **

Stiles looked down at the cup of disgusting smelling liquid and frowned. 

“Your home-made remedy for hangovers,” his Dad told him with a grin. Stiles only grimaced. “If I had to drink it back when I was hungover, then you can too. Hey, that’s the price you pay.” 

**_That’s OK, you don’t need to win anyways_ **

He knew his Dad was joking but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to look at his Dad. He felt guilty and could feel the tears well up. Why did he think it was a good idea to get hammered? 

“If you hate it so much, next time, drink at a club,” his Dad joked almost as if he could read his mind. His eyes then softened as he looked at Stiles. “Hey,” he whispered softly. So softly, Stiles had to look up at him. “Everyone has bad days. It’s fine. Just don’t make a habit of it, yeah?” 

**_Don’t be afraid, just eat up all the grey_ **

Stiles nodded silently, looking back down and fiddling with the cup in his hand. The man put a hand on his leg that was covered in the blanket. 

“You alright?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. 

“I’m fine,” Stiles answers as his fingers fidget the cup. 

“You ready to talk about it yet?” He asks once more with the same softness. 

**_And it will fade all away_ **

“Not really,” Stiles said looking up at him once and feeling the tears slowly cascade out of the wells of his eyes and down his cheeks. He took a sip of the concoction and grimaced. 

“Alright,” his Dad conceded, never taking the hand off his leg. “Well, if you want, I’m right here. Or in the station, as usual.” 

**_Don’t let yourself fall down_ **

He got up to leave when Stiles abruptly began talking. 

“I thought you were gonna work the night shift.” He still wouldn’t look up. 

“Yeah, no,” his Dad drawled, putting his hands on his waist. “Parrish suggested I take a break. Apparently, I’ve been working way too much. But -um- I'm back to work tonight.” 

Stiles simply nodded, taking another sip with another grimace. His Dad waited, knowing he was going to talk again. He looked up at his Dad, tears finally flowing out open and honest as his lips quivered. 

**_Bad day_**   
**_Looking for the great escape_**

“Dad, I’m sorry,” he sobbed and, in a flash, his Dad was there holding him. 

“Hey,” he whispered, shushing him, “It’s alright.” 

**_He says, bad day_**   
**_Looking for the great escape_**

“No. No, it’s not.” 

“Listen to me, Stiles. Hey. _It’ll be fine_.” 

**_On a bad day_**   
**_Looking for the great escape_**

“No, it’s not,” he whispers, feeling utterly and truly pathetic. He’s never broken down like this in years and it feels like it’s taking a lot out of him. 

Noah simply holds his son not knowing what to say to console him and so, holds him tighter. It seemed to do the trick as Stiles slowly stops. He wished Stiles confided in him but he knew better than to pry. In the end, he knows that Stiles would eventually be alright. His son was like that. Stronger than anything or anyone. And they see monsters with at _least_ the strength of two men on the regular! For now, he can hold his son and wipe his tears. He’ll wait for the eventual conversation. He’ll wait till Stiles is ready. 

**_The great escape_ **

“Well,” he tells Stiles instead with a smile as they pull apart after a while, “your ass better make it to the kitchen. I ordered pizza.” 

Saying that, he left the room. Stiles grinned through pink eyes and downed the whole cup, sticking his tongue out and wincing at the bitter taste. His head wasn’t going to get better right away but, hey, he gets pizza! He got out of his sheets and strides out. 

“Hey, Dad? You do remember that pizza’s unhealthy for you, right,” he called after his Dad. “Dad? You know I’m just going to force you into eating something healthy later, right?” 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**_Heart been so cold that I don't feel at all_ **

The Nogitsune sat across his as usual and fidgeted about with his things while he tried concentrating on his homework and assignments. The very presence of the creature sent waves of irritation through him as they tried to quell their boredom. Normally, Malia is over with every chance she gets so that Stiles could help her with her studies. Honestly, it’s a feat given how Stiles keeps forgetting or mispronouncing words right now. Sure, it’s rare but it happens enough for Stiles to notice it, even if Malia doesn’t. Right now, she’s learning Maths from Lydia. So, Stiles is left with a bored Nogitsune that wouldn’t whine about their boredom but he could feel it. And he doesn’t keep up with the sense of it being there and his frustrations over his work, not to mention the unknown source of anger that just makes him want to beat the holy hell out of the Nogitsune. 

**_It's caught up inside so I built all these walls_ **

So, instead of voicing that out, he decides to control himself. 

‘Shut up,’ he thinks out to them, not even bothering to speak verbally. They tilt their head in amusement and look at him. It only serves as an added reason for Stiles to punch them. 

“But I didn’t say anything,” it told him. There was amusement behind their words but Stiles knew them long enough to feel the under currents of disappointment. They’re just waiting for Stiles to burst out and come forth clearly to them. Normally Stiles would ignore their wishes or avoid it with sarcasm and dry humour, but this time, he complies. 

**_Head rolling back, but I'm faking the rush_ **

“You’re judging me,” he grates out, dropping the pen he held with irritation and crossing his arms as he glared at the Fox. 

“I am,” it agrees with a hum as it pointedly ignores his face and looks at his board. “It’s more organized now. I did leave the old board a mess, didn’t I? And your bed.” 

**_Out every night, and I'm lonely as fuck_ **

Stiles could feel the indignation bubble right under the surface making his face twitch. He notices the Nogitsune side-eyeing him and smirking. 

“What do you want me to say? Sorry? I’m not. It’s normal to get drunk. A lotta people do it. Worse than me, in fact!” Stiles rolls ever so slightly in his chair as he speaks, legs shaking and fingers playing with the dropped pen. “What’s it to you, anyways, what I do? You’re hell-bent on seeing me embarrass myself and die miserably. You should be throwing a party for yourself in that little cage of yours.” 

**_I make my rules and my own plans_ **

Stiles notices them grit their jaw shift as if they were gritting their teeth. Within a blink of an eye, they were sitting on his desk, a hand cupping their face and slouching in a way that made it seem as if they were tired of Stiles’ antics. They looked at him with a sigh and a frown. It made Stiles scoff in irritation. ‘What do they want now?’ 

**_I got no room for no man_ **

“I told you not to drink.” 

**_That's my way, that's my way_ **

It was on point. No playing around with words, just straight to it. Their eyes pierced right through Stiles, making him feel uncomfortable. 

**_Then I saw you in a dream right_ **

“And I _told you_ to fuck off, yesterday,” Stiles shot back, not one to relent. There was a pause as both looked at each other. Stiles’ brows knit together at the lack of response and space as they leaned closer. 

**_I_ ** **_wanna_ ** **_call you, a kind of feeling_ **

“I don’t like it,” they confessed after a while, their own brows knitting together, a frown so similar to Stiles’ own yet completely different. 

**_I can't name, I can't name_ **

“What? Did it bore you?” 

“No.” 

**_It's strange,_**   
**_But I don't need space from you_**

“Then what do you mean, ‘you don’t like it’?” 

“... I don’t know,” they tell him, confused. 

**_And every single thing you do, I like_ **

“Wh- You know what? Never mind,” Stiles tries pushing them off his desk and when that didn’t work, he just sighed angrily and went back to his homework. In a minute he was frustrated at the word he wanted to write but wouldn’t remember for the life of him. 

**_I've been chased;_**   
**_Maybe I just knew I had to wait for you_**

“Ambivalence,” the nogitsune uttered softly to him, making him look up at them in silent question. “Ambivalence. That’s the word you’re looking for. A-M-B-I-V-A-L-E-N-C-E.” 

**_Draw a knife and carve a little space for you_ **

“Right.” Somehow, Stiles felt his mouth dry. He licked it, not taking his eyes off the nogitsune. They looked at him as if they found the answer to some riddle as they smiled an awkward half smile at him. Almost as if they couldn’t believe they would ever smile or rather, smile like that at him. Stiles decided it’d be better if he focused on his work, quickly jotting down the word dictated to him. 

**_It feels nice_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter!  
> As of now, I'm writing the final act. I miiiight be a little stuck with it. No worries! It'll be ages before you get to catch up to that. Hopefully, by then, I'll get it done.  
> I'll still be updating this coming Sunday guys! So, look out for it!  
> Till next time.  
> Bisous,  
> Sailingdreameater<3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next part!  
> Songs list:  
> 1\. Intro (an awesome wave) - Alt J  
> 2\. Fox academy - Fox academy

Stiles was in the classroom when it next happened. It was one of those extra classes he decided to take just in case he couldn’t make it to graduation. He was trying to finish as much of schooling as soon as possible. He got Lydia’s weird stares when he did as much but he brushed it off with a- 

“Thought it’d be better to finish as much as possible before the next big bad draws our attention.” She had sighed, rolled her eyes and looked him dead in the eye with dismissal written all over. 

“There won’t be anymore.” She said it so confidently that Stiles would’ve believed it. If one wasn’t partially co-existing in his head, connected by a hair-thin magic livewire run purely on the chaos and pain he fed it. 

Scott didn’t ask. He was too busy worrying over whether or not to take the AP classes. Particularly, Biology. Stiles can’t bring himself to care, but he gave some hollow advice all the same. It probably didn’t help his friend. Honestly, at the time, he was trying not to choke on the Twinkie he was trying to eat. 

“Dude,” Scott began with disgust as he watched Stiles chew adamantly on it. “You’re gonna get a heartburn if you keep at that.” 

“You tryna be a Doc or a Vet? Shove off. I do what I want,” Stiles shot back, mouth full of food, with more venom than he intended. Scott shrugged it off assuming Stiles was in one of his bad moods. He was not. Stiles was in one of his better moods that day. But his friend’s reaction soured it and he had to walk away to keep his cool. 

He was in a boring physics class when the proverbial ball dropped. It started with him zoning into the noise of the chalk clacking over the board as it was dragged about by its user. Stiles couldn’t hear a word as everything either felt like gibberish or became background noise. 

He felt like the world was choking him out. As if all the faces around him were watching him, judging him. He looked down at his notes. 

‘Did I write them properly?’ He wondered as he thought back to all the teachers that became irritated over the number of spelling or grammatical errors he made. Some would call him after class just to ask him what in God’s name he had even written. Coach was convinced he’s been drinking. Weirdly enough, he got sympathy for that. 

“Yeah. I know how it feels,” he told Stiles with a rough slap on his back and an understanding nod. He sneaks a peak at his poor victim, from their spot outside the class, who generally sat in one corner of the room and his face went dark. “Fucking Greenburg,” he muttered under his breath. 

Still, the number of teachers who pointed out mistakes kept increasing. They all had the same resigned look on their faces. They all wondered why Stiles wanted to take more classes when he couldn’t keep up with the ones he already had. 

Right now, he felt like the teacher in front of him was tapping away at the board with impatience and a sharp eye on him. 

‘Fuck,’ Stiles thought as his hands began shaking from the fear. The room became smaller. The words in the book danced. The glares were omnipresent and condemning. Someone was whispering. 

‘Stiles.’ 

Some others joined in as they all looked mockingly at him. 

‘Stiles. You’re not focusing.’ 

They were definitely talking about him. It made him angry. How dare they? They can’t be so quick to judge. Stiles wasn’t one for vocalizing against bullying when the target was himself. He always remained with stoic silence as he let the others rage. It began with his Mom. Then his Dad. Later, anybody who deemed him nerdy enough to bully. Even Gerard. He shut up because he thought it was the smartest thing to do and, not to mention, efficient. Yet now.... Now he could only conjure up multiple ways to absolutely massacre everyone. He even had centuries of knowledge to back it up. The blatant rage simmered just beneath the surface, waiting to be let out. And, oh, he will. Swears to God, he fucking will. He grabs the pen in his hand tighter, a plan already forming in his head. 

‘This isn’t who you are, Stiles.’ 

But that doesn’t fucking matter now, does it? He is about to get up when a face covers his vision and he stops short, mouth hanging agape. 

‘Stiles,’ Nogitsune warns as it sits on his desk, leaning over him. He leans back, anger and impatience rolling off of himself in waves. If his wolf friends were here, they’d probably tackle him to the ground right about now. ‘No.’ 

The simple words were firm and final. As if the decision of action and inaction lied with them rather than himself. He glowered and pulled his hands away from where it lay on either sides of them on the table. Looking closer, he could see that they were frowning too. But it was more of a worried frown. He stifled the urge to scoff. 

‘Why not?’ 

‘Because you’re hallucinating,’ they told him plainly. He shook his head. They can’t fool him. Foxes are always tricksters. They know when to twist and what to twist. 

‘I have no reason to believe you,’ he retaliates, and they growl. 

‘I am not lying to you, _aho_!’ It only makes him angrier. 

‘Shouldn’t you be happy about this? If I do this, you get even more power and you get fed, right? Why stop me?’ 

‘Guess we both are doing the opposite of what is in our nature,’ they hiss and lean closer, but Stiles doesn’t understand the panicked expression they have on. 

‘Don’t. Get. In. My way,’ he bites out and they pause before leaning back with a sigh. Stiles swears he saw something pass over their face, but it was gone in a flash and he was too irritated to think about it. 

‘Fine! Have it your way. Draw on my powers then,’ they finally stated, staring him down, hands clenched tightly at their sides. Stiles blinks, doubtful. 

‘What? Why?’ 

‘Chaos,’ they stress on the word with too much venom in it. As if they hated that word. ‘Chaos, pain, strife. That is what my powers are for. Draw on them and arm yourself with it. That way, you won’t get caught as soon when you commit the mass murder you’re planning on.’ 

“And how, pray, do I do that?’ Stiles thinks it’s a good idea and, logically, he can derive even more punishment from all the giggling bastards around him. The teacher is going to be his first victim. 

‘Close your eyes,’ they intoned, and he complied. ‘Focus on the part of you that’s connected to me. Feel the cord that connects the both of us. Pull it yourself like you’re tugging on a rope.’ 

It takes a few tries to get what Nogitsune meant but when he did, he felt that ancient power trickle in like it was meant to be there. Meant to be inside him and he hummed low in the back of his throat at the sensation. When he opened his eyes again, he felt calmer and the people who were staring at him didn’t so much as spare a glance in his direction. He felt cold sweat on his brow and the fox looked at him with an indecipherable expression. 

With a daunting sensation, he realized that they were right. He’d been hallucinating. The faint thrum of power coursing through his blood kept him from going into a full-blown panic attack. Silence stagnated between him and Nogitsune. There was nothing to say anyways. 

He tried getting back into class only to give up when he realized he missed too much to understand what was being taught. At least he could read the words. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------- 

It was the night of senior scribe and there was a huge storm. In all honesty, Stiles was already nervous. So, the added creepy thunderstorm did not help calm his nerves. Ignoring his itch to scream in frustration, Stiles goes over the plan with Scott. 

**_Shit them all festival, laugh at the beautiful_**   
**_It’s just a nod to the canon_**

“The plan’s perfect,” he tells Scott who knows well enough by now to know he was only half listening to him, a smile painting his face. Stiles thinks he’s probably excited to see Kira more than listening to him. He understands though. 

“Or we could also wait until we actually get into college and then figure out where to live,” Scott tells him with a smile and a little shake. Stiles does _not_ need this. Especially when his stupid body double is off in a corner staring off into space like a weirdo. 

**_Simple man Stan can’t stand up on the beautiful_**   
**_It’s just a nod to the canon_**

‘Do all nogitsunes do that?’ he wonders and then decidedly ignores that in favour of berating his friend. 

“I have a vision, dude. Okay? And it’s a beautiful vision. Don’t ruin the vision.” He looks at the map and then makes a suggestion. “Okay, we can check out East Bay. Haven’t looked at Oakland yet, y’know?” 

He sees Scott look at the moon that is no longer covered by the clouds. It’s the full moon. He looks at Scott, concerned even if he knows there’s no need to be. 

“You alright? You starting to feel it?” Scott simply shakes his head and smiles. 

“No. Just thinking.” 

**_Stickle brick, tickle quick, laugh at the beautiful_**   
**_It’s just a nod to the canon_**

“About what?” He puts down the pen he’s holding to look at Scott. 

“Senior year,” Scott tells him like it’s the obvious problem. 

“Senior year! C’mon, that’s, that’s... That’s nothing. That’s gonna be easy,” he tells him with confidence and somehow, he feels it too. Scott looks at his palm as he lifts it, vaguely staring at it but not really focusing on it. 

“It’s more like something Deaton told me once,” he adjusts his posture and looks at Stiles. “You ever hear of regression to the mean?” 

**_Hustle over hot muscle shower, twitch off the beautiful_**   
**_It’s just a nod to the canon now_**

“No. I don’t think so,” Stiles admits, scrunching his face, wondering where he’s going with this. Scott goes back to looking at his hands as he explains it to him. 

“It’s basically his way of saying that life can’t be all bad or good. Y’know? Eventually things have to come back to the middle.” He looks at Stiles carefully. “So, think about the last few months. Things have been good, right? But not amazing.” 

**_One, two, three..._ **

“Yeah, but no one’s tried to kill us in six months either.” 

**_Yeah_ **

“Right. We’ve been pretty much in the middle for a while. Which means, at some point, the scale has to tip one way or the other. Things are gonna get really good again...” 

“Or really bad,” Stiles continues, dreading of what is to come even as he side-eyes the nogitsune staring vacantly at their surroundings. Just to stress the point, the sound of thunder resounds. 

\------------------------------------------------------------ 

I don’t wanna do this unless I’m actually a senior,” Malia confesses, struck with panic. Stiles, however is too distracted to focus. Too many things to think about that he doesn’t know what to do. Even Nogitsune who’d normally stand beside him isn’t there anymore as they disappeared right after the lightning struck beside the Jeep earlier. 

“Yeah,” he says belatedly. The sound of breathing pulls him out of his thoughts as he turns to look at Malia sniffing him. He makes a noise in confusion. 

“What’s wrong with you? You smell terrible.” She looks so earnestly at him; Stiles can’t help but feel even more anxious. 

**_White dress_ **

“Yeah, it’s called anxiety,” he tells her, half sarcastically. “Should be a familiar scent for you by now since it’s pretty much a constant state for me.” 

“Why’s this thing so important to you?” 

**_Constant dizziness_ **

“It’s not,” he lies almost out of reflex, shoulders shrugging. He then realizes it’s pointless to lie to a werecoyote but he doesn’t want to tell everything plaguing his mind. 

‘So, you’re just gonna add to that pile of secrets you’re keeping?’ 

The words Malia had told him before came to the forefront of his mind then. 

**_Always on the ground with your head facedown_ **

“It’s not. It’s uh,” he trails off as he tries to keep the lie, wanting to deny everything but can’t and not knowing how much longer he’s going to keep his illness a secret. He would if Malia wouldn’t stare at him so earnestly, with a frown creasing her face. He scratches his neck in frustration. “I don’t know. Maybe it is,” he admits thinking of something to tell her. “Alright. I asked my Dad the other day about his high school friends. Guess how many he still talks to? None. Not a single one. You know, these were his best friends and he just says he lost touch with them, you know. So, I started thinking about things like, I always do-” 

**_Never come around when it gets late out_ **

“Obsessively.” 

“Yeah. And so, I’m thinking.... What if,” he pauses as he licks his lips anxiously. “What if Scott’s my best friend now, you know, but he’s not my best friend for life?” 

“Well,” Malia begins, trying to understand his feelings. “Doesn’t that just happen sometimes?” 

**_We hear you_ **

“Yeah, but only if we let it happen!” He can feel the irritation make its way up again between all the anxiety and intrusive thoughts. “Y’know, that’s what I’m saying. How come when we graduate, we’re just expected to go our separate ways? If I’ve already found the best people in my life, why aren’t I not trying to stay with them, y’know?” 

**_We hear you_ **

“Well, I thought that was the plan. The dream.” 

“The vision. And don’t mock the vision.” 

“I- I like the vision,” Malia confesses, coming even closer to Stiles. “Especially if I’m part of it.” 

There’s a pause as Malia thinks everything through. Stiles just hopes she doesn’t dig into it anymore. He doesn’t know if he can hide it any longer. 

**_Black_ ** **_nest_ **

“So that’s why you wanted everyone here,” she concludes, eyes scrunched close as she thinks she’s come to the right conclusion. “Because you don’t want to lose all your friends after senior year.” 

Stiles looks at her carefully, tongue poking around in a nervous tick. She’s almost correct but he doesn’t want to correct her. Even when he knows they’ll all know about it eventually. 

**_Constant heaviness_ **

“And I hope they don’t want to lose me either,” he tells her softly. The admission almost makes him want to run away or just spill his guts but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses her. He doesn’t even know why. They both know it but won’t talk about it. They know it’s not love. Always knew it and yet they still look for something from each other. Maybe that’s why things work for them. It’s silent, but they know that when they’re done, they are done. But for now, they’d rather just seek each other’s body heat and passionate kisses. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

As Stiles finally gets back home and into his room, he notices the Nogitsune staring at him, looking grave. He knew it. Something was really up. That wasn’t Theo. That wasn’t normal. All that had happened was planned. ‘ _Tonight’_ wasn’t normal. 

“You know something, don’t you?” He looks at the Nogitsune wanting the answer straight. 

“Not exactly,” they tell him, hands folded and fist clenched around a thumb. They were still confused. “Not in my current state, anyways.” 

“Right,” Stiles sighs, irritated. “So, what? If I draw on your powers will you be able to figure it out? Or would I still have to do the figuring out even then?” 

“No,” they tell him, voice drifting off and fingers clenching even tighter. He could almost feel them grit their teeth. “The only way for me to find out...” 

“Go on.” 

“The only way I can find out is if you let me out,” they tell Stiles, looking him right in the eye. For a minute, Stiles thinks they’re joking but he knows that’s not true from the way they look at him. That makes him feel all kinds of off-kilter feelings. 

“Okay,” he drawls finally. “So, plan A is cancelled. What’s plan B?” 

“I think you already know what to do, don’t you?” This time, they smile at him. The smile, oddly enough, made him feel as though the nogitsune was being affectionate. He quickly shook those thought out. He gives them a smile of his own, ignoring the split second of surprise that he thought he saw on his body double. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty short chapter, I know but I will hopefully put up longer ones in the future.  
> I've made the whole thing into a three part story but I'm worried about how long it's going to take to post it all. To be honest, I kinda have a bad habit of leaving long fics unfinished but I really want to finish this one and post it. The best way to get over a bad habit is to power through it. Well, for me. So, I'm gonna do this! Hell yeah!!  
> Hehe~ Anyways, from now on, the updates might be irregular I am definitely going to keep posting new chapters. Look out for them.  
> Until next time!  
> Love,  
> Sailingdreameater


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs List:  
> 1\. Idhu varai - Andrea Jeremiah & Ajesh  
> 2\. Space song - Beach House  
> 3\. Then again - Brooke Annibale
> 
> Ayyo~ Been a while since the last update. So sorry for that. Here's the next update! Hope you guys like it! <3

As Stiles sees his Dad leave, he hears a frustrated sigh from behind him. He closes the door and turns to look at the entity staring at his board, hands folded behind him and face marred by a frown that’s too deep. 

**_Angae angae vandhu vandhu kalakum_**   
**_Venmeghamum vennilavum pola_**

“He’s right, you know,” he tells them in consolation. “Theo’s gonna slip up eventually.” 

“I know. I did as well,” they agreed half-heartedly. Somehow, Stiles felt like the one unsatisfied with his own answer. Almost as if he needed to put in the extra effort to figure things out. The nogitsune turned to look at him, eyes sharp. Stiles kept forgetting they could hear him. 

**_Endhan mana ennangalai yaar arivar…_ **

“Drawing out my powers won’t help,” they told him. They walked closer to him, making Stiles uncomfortable for some reason. “If Scott with all his alpha powers can’t seem to figure it out, then the supernatural isn’t the answer to solve the puzzle. You are smart enough to figure it out.” 

**_En nenjamo unpola alla_**   
**_Yedho orr maatram_**   
**_Nilai puriyadha thottram_**

“Yeah?” Stiles feels slightly breathless as they’re only a foot away from him. He backs into the door behind him, and feels breathing a little more difficult. 

**_Idhu nirandharam alla_**   
**_Marividum mananilai dhan_**

“Yes,” they tell him with a smile that’s closer to a grin. They walk closer to Stiles, leaving him no room to back away. Their face is but inches away from his own and in the space between them, their breaths intermingle and Stiles can smell the familiar scent that was Nogitsune. He could smell the chaos and pain almost as if he had Synaesthesia. It sent shivers down his spine and somehow, he hoped they would press closer. Claustrophobia was not something he ever had until this moment. “Which means it’s all up to you. I can help, sure. But I know you can figure it out Stiles. It’ll be like a riddle! Even if it takes you time, you’ll eventually figure it out. You always will, _Saiai_.” 

**_Ohhh ohh_ **

“Right,” Stiles echoes and licks his lips. His brain seems to stop functioning as he becomes all the more confused by their behaviour. The next second, they disappear and reappear on top of his bed, laid out like it’s theirs and grinning at him. Stiles huffs in annoyance, mouth stuck in an O. Rolling his eyes, he walks over to his bed and crosses his arms. “You know that’s my bed, right? You have to do your magicky thing and poof out of existence now.” 

**_Manadhilae munnooru unarvugal_**   
**_Malarndhadhae muthaana uravugal_**

“What if I don’t want to?” They smile cheekily at him, snuggling in without a care in the world. Their tails come out and swish around before wrapping around him and themselves. As always, the tails seemed to mesmerize Stiles. He took note of how the tails were actually shorter than before, only being about his height at the moment. They were still beautiful; a soft thing that was jet black and ended in white by the tips. “It’s _our_ bed now.” 

**_Thirandhadhae thannalae kadhavugal_**   
**_Namaku munnalae_**

“Okay,” Stiles drawled sarcastically, a small smirk on his face. “Yeah. That’s cool. How about we add to that creepy Shinning twin thing we got going on here? Make out a little.” 

**_Idhu varai illadha unarvidhu_**   
**_Idhayathil undana kanavidhu_**

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” they play along with a smile and lie on their back. Their eyes search for something in his and he’s honestly curious as to what that is. 

**_Palithidum annalai thedidum padal kettaiyo_ **

“No. No, I’m offering to put my tongue in your mouth,” he pushes on. It feels weird. It also feels exciting. Like he doesn’t know what this would lead to but he’s too damn curious to leave it be. They move faster than his eyes could keep track of. Holding him in their arms as if he might run at a moment’s notice. A fox chasing a rabbit. They look at him with equal parts menace and something darker but not all that unwelcome. 

**_Dhegam ippodhu unarndhadhu_**   
**_Thendral en meedhu padarndhadhu_**

“Maybe I’ll take your offer,” they challenged him and, wow, that was something that he never thought would ever happen. It might’ve shown on his face because they started laughing. It made him all the more flustered and angrier. 

**_Mogam munneri varugudhu munnae_ **

“Oh, ha-ha! Now get fo before I quish your five stail with my ass.” 

Stiles just face plants into the bed, tired just as Nogitsune moves out of the way. He sighs happily, finally feeling the comfort of his bed and the hope of a good night’s sleep. He turns to look at them when he notices them frown. 

“Wh-”   
“Draw on my power,” they cut in with a stern look. He bobs his head in confusion, making half-hearted gestures to indicate his want for sleep. He gets an even firmer glare. 

“Okay,” he stresses out, irritated. Closing his eyes, Stiles tugs on the familiar darkness that resides far inside in the recesses of his mind. He can feel a hum from the tendril of darkness, almost as if it was purring in satisfaction. He opens his eyes to question said entity only to find them missing. He sighs and throws an arm over his eyes. Just then he hears his phone and picks it up. 

It’s a picture sent from Braedon. He immediately realizes that it’s about the Dessert Wolf. Opening it makes him feel even more anxious. 

“Great,” he drawls out and resists the urge to chuck his phone. Instead, he gets up to write some more on his board. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Stiles was walking up and down in front of the board once again, looking at it constantly and biting his nails. The room was an illusion created by the nogitsune and Stiles would be glad that he’s asleep if not for the fact that he thinks that it’s a waste of time at this point. No one has noticed the bags under his eyes yet anyways. 

**_It was late at night_**   
**_You held on tight_**

“Stiles.” 

He thinks about all the clues lining up. Or rather, the fact that they don’t line up. First, the random attack on Scott by the werewolf with the glowing claws. Then, Tracy. It doesn’t make sense. Why did she attack? Was the werewolf that attacked Scott connected to Tracy? 

**_From an empty seat_**   
**_A flash of light_**

“Stiles.” 

And Malia who swears she saw three men in masks. Who were they? Did they even exist? 

‘They’re coming,’ Tracy had whispered in horror before. Maybe she meant the men in masks? 

“Stiles?” 

**_It will take a while_ **

Does that mean Theo was just trying to help? Is he not involved in this? 

The sudden cupping of his face in Nogitsune’s hands brought him out of his whirling thoughts. He looks at them as they stand very close to him, face scrunched up as they continue to cup his cheeks. 

**_To make you smile_**   
**_Somewhere in these eyes_**

“Can- can you let me go now?” Stiles licks his lips, trying to look at their hands instead of their face, feeling all sorts of awkward and confused. 

“If you’d shut up for once,” they huff not letting go. 

**_I'm on your side_ **

“Mhm.” 

“You’re not wrong for wondering how the dots connect. They seem random and stick out like sore thumbs,” they tell him slowly as if he were a child before getting on to the point, voice sharp and fingers firmly on his face as they barely brush the tips of his ears. Stiles can’t help but lean into their touch. “However, don’t forget what I taught you in Go. It is good to look at the big picture but sometimes, you need to pay attention to just one piece.” 

**_You wide-eyed girls_**   
**_You get it right_**

“Theo,” Stiles echoes, voice soft and understanding. 

“Yes, Theo,” they parrot him with a nod. Stiles’ eyebrows knit in confusion. 

“He’s only ever done good. He helped Lydia. It doesn’t make sense.” 

**_Fall back into place_ **

“It doesn’t for now. But you will understand soon enough. Don’t forget what your father told you. If he is truly guilty, he’ll slip up. They always do, don’t they?” 

“That’s the thing,” Stiles stresses, voice quivering with doubt at the end. “I don’t think he’ll make one.” 

**_Fall back into place_ **

“Then lead him into making one,” they tell him, a smirk playing on their lips. Their fingers brush through his hair and before he could think about what he was doing, he closed his eyes and leaned into their touch. Sometimes, he missed their presence. As weird as it seemed and as terrifying as it was last time, he truly missed having that extra bunk mate in his head. It was one of those things he couldn’t explain to anyone even if he wanted to. And right now, he was positively aching for the void he knew to surround him. Stiles swallowed, thinking of Scott and feeling guilty. He shook his head and focused on the matter at present. Yet again, his best friend was before him and standing at odds. It was frustrating. 

**_Fall back into place_ **

“How? If I go about hounding behind him, Scott’s just-” 

“Forget about Scott!” The nogitsune snarls, silver teeth showing, making his body double look surreal and creepy. Stiles was reminded again of the terrifying being that had plagued his mind and made a mess out of his life once. They still could do that. It dawned upon him and was sure as death. He was reminded once more of why he was supposed to be weary of the creature in his head. Of the death and mayhem that could happen. Shivers crawled up his spine as their eyes glowed a metallic silver. As they reverted back into a form not unlike his own, they moved back slowly, almost regretfully, from Stiles. Their hands drop to their sides as they look at him with knitted brows and a weird sort of desperation. “Forget about Scott. Following his sense of morality and ideology isn’t going to get you anywhere, Stiles. Make your own path.” 

**_Fall back into place_ **

“This _is_ my own path,” he defends, hands folded and moving away from the entity. The anger and irritation come back up even as the residual fear clings onto his being like a vice. 

**_Fall back into place_ **

“No, it is not, _Saiai.”_ They look at him with pity and it sends him into a silent rage. It feels like betrayal. Stiles simply clenches his fists and doesn’t answer. The frustration of not being able to retaliate stems from the fact that he knows that they know him more than he knows himself and that there is a certain truth in what they say. 

**_Fall back_ **

“Shut up,” he finally bites out, petulant. It somehow changes the mood as they grin at him with mischief and vanish in the blink of an eye. 

Stiles finds himself awake and having a snoring Malia cling onto him like a body pillow. He doesn’t go back to sleep. Instead, he wonders why he feels awkward in her arms and pries himself out of her grasp. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Stiles found himself enjoying the conversations he had with Nogitsune. After the concussion he got the night he was punched hard by Brunski, he’d see Nogitsune even outside his dreams. Which made things better because he didn’t actually fall asleep that much. Even if he did, he’d most likely end up having a horrible nightmare that Malia had resorted to clawing him to wake him up. In comparison, the dreams with Nogitsune in it were pleasant. He honestly didn’t think that was possible to be frank. However, it was a welcome change. Especially nowadays. 

Now that he was getting into the research part of the monster of the week, he was back to buzzing about his room and in his mind, trying to figure out the puzzle. With his brain slowly deteriorating, it was harder to remember things and to keep track of them. Sometimes, he’d think of something and rush home only to forget what it was about and get angry over it. 

It was times like these that he was secretly glad Nogitsune was there. They’d help him remember things, keeping track of important things and reciting them back to him. He could make a note on his phone, but he sometimes messes up the notes. Be it not being able to read the notes or noting down gibberish he swears were written properly, he’d end up frustrated and tugging at his hair. Nogitsune was better this way. They didn’t say anything about his illness; they simply nudged him in the right direction. Sometimes, they’d whisper the right words. Other times, the ghost of their presence stopped him from doing something bad or something he’d wanted to do at the moment and think it appropriate even if it was far from it. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t slipped up yet in front of his friends. That is, excluding Malia. That too was on very rare occasions as he taught her. 

He knew what they were doing by making sure he drew on their power. It slowed it down. Slowed the sickness even if he didn’t feel like it. He knew there was a difference. He was still in the early stages but at this point, his Mom had already been messing up her taxes and gotten into a horrible fight with Mrs. Martin, her best friend. She flubbed in her lingual skills a lot more than he did. So, even if it wasn’t much, it was something. 

That didn’t change the fact that he still had it and that it only meant he had to deal with the consequences slower than originally intended. 

Yeah, he was still dying. Still losing his mind. 

The nightmares were, by far, the worst. He couldn’t stand them. But as he thought about all the times that he had to go through lingual issues without Nogitsune there to guide him, he already had a clear winner when comparing the devil and the deep sea. That being said, he can confidently conclude that he _is_ recovering from the concussion, slowly. Why? It was because he could see less and less of Nogitsune when he’s conscious. 

He didn’t notice it at first. Didn’t realize it. At first, they’d be there all the time nagging, mocking or simply staring at him. Slowly, it devolved to shorter time spans. They’d disappear without a warning most of the time. Never mid-sentence though, as if they already knew. Which only made sure Stiles never found out. But, as always, Stiles did. Took him a while as they were always there when he needed them the most. It hit him after the fourth time Nogitsune didn’t come even after he begged them to make their appearance when he messed up important things. 

Stiles realized that unless he wanted to get another concussion by damaging his already messed up and shrinking brain, he’s not going to see them during consciousness. 

“Then perhaps you would consider letting me in again,” they told him with a smirk, reading his thoughts once again. They sat in the place Malia sat before Stiles so obviously fell asleep. He would feel guilty over that, if he wasn’t glad for the rest his body desperately needed. Meds would only get you so far. Especially when he has to take them without Malia’s knowledge and the added fact that most times Nogitsune isn’t there to remind him to take them. They look at him with amusement as they put their chin on their palm. “Would make your life easier, now wouldn’t it?” 

“Not even if I was paid to on top of it.” He snorted as he went back to reading the book before him. They say that now, once in a while. He doesn’t know how much truth and desire hides behind those mocking words, but he’d still treat it as a joke. They both knew he never trusted the fox completely. Definitely not with this. No matter how out of it he was with his mental state, he was never going to let them back in. 

“Go home, Stiles,” they say with a smile, ignoring the truth they both know yet never talk about. “Maybe Malia already left.” 

With that, Stiles finds himself jolting awake to the isolated library and no Malia. He sighs. 

“Guess they’re right.” 

Starting the car is a lot more annoying than it should be. Especially when his car decides to malfunction again. This time, he has more than just duct tape. Curtesy of a certain fox that keeps nagging him to buy some tool, _any_ tool to fix the jeep. 

As he lifts the bonnet, he finds himself coughing and gagging at the smoking vehicle. Wrench and duct tape in hand, he decides to fix it only to feel a searing pain by his neck. 

He screams. 

Struggling to get out of Donovan’s hold, Stiles grabs hold of his hand. That’s when he noticed it. The oddly shaped mouth that struggled to bite into flesh; his flesh. The sign of the Wendigo. It was in that second that it struck Stiles that Donovan was also a chimera. A chimera like Tracy. Before he could think more about it, he had to struggle to push him off. Hitting his chin with his head and taking his wrench to strike a blow to Donovan’s temple. 

For a second there, he dreaded that he had hallucinated it all and had hurt a harmless person only to change his mind as Donovan picked himself up like the bone crunching blow to his head was nothing but a cheap shot that didn’t work. Stiles ran. 

He ran only to find himself back in the library, panting, feeling the shivers of fear spike his being. Stiles hid behind a shelf just in time to see Donovan enter the library too. 

His blood ran cold as he heard his phone ring. He patted himself down only to notice that it was missing. 

“You dropped your phone,” Donovan spoke out and he internally sighed. As he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see a familiar face smile softly at him, gesturing to him to remain silent. “It’s Malia. Should I text her back?” 

As Donovan cut the call and put Stiles’ phone in his pocket, Stiles looked at the entity that wore his face. Somehow, seeing the face calmed him. Even though he knew they could do nothing, he still felt better just from their presence. He could feel his heart skip a beat. 

‘Don’t speak,’ they tell him. They had a smile but Stiles knew they were faking it. He could see the barely restrained anger they felt in Stiles’ stead. 

‘Why?’ Stiles wanted to ask them. 

“You don’t really know who I am, do you, Stiles?” Donovan’s words made Stiles want to scoff. He would’ve if it were any other situation. Right now, he had to focus on Nogitsune just so he doesn’t panic. “Maybe you, uh, heard about my father.” 

Stiles paused; body stiff as he remembered what he had read about the case. It wasn’t much and he could barely remember it but he knows that there was a shoot-out and that his Dad was partnered with Donovan’s father. He looked over to see Donovan’s figure looking about aimlessly, casually. Nogitsune caught his attention, face barely hiding concern. Concern for whom? Him? He didn’t think so. They shook their head and put a hand on his chest to stop him from moving anymore. He wondered why once more. 

“Did your Dad tell you about him,” Donovan continued, voice slow and mocking. “Did Sheriff Stilinski ever tell you about the time he was still deputy and how his partner got caught in a shoot-out? Did he tell you a bullet shattered my Dad’s T-9 vertebra? Went right through his spinal cord. Know what that means?” 

‘It means everything below the waist is paralyzed.’   
“It means everything below his waist is useless,” Stiles came to the same conclusion as Donovan recited it, anger painting his words as he continued speaking. “And not just his legs.” 

Normally, Stiles would feel some sort of guilt or pity but now, he couldn’t stop the anger and irritation that rolled over him in waves. As he licked his lips, he could only wish Donovan would shut up. All the fear he had melted and paved way for only sheer anger. He would punch Donovan if only Donovan wasn’t strong. Whatever happened made Donovan into a chimera like Tracy. And while Tracy was unconsciously hurting people, Donovan was actively trying to hurt. Him in particular. Maybe his Dad was next. That thought made his blood run cold. He had to get away and warn Scott. Make a move. Not just hide here. Even Nogitsune disappeared, leaving Stiles all alone. 

“I bet he told you some of it.” The continued monologue distracted Stiles from making any more plans. “But I bet he probably left out the part where he was sitting in a car calling for backup while my Dad was going in alone. Did he tell you that he was too scared, too much of a frightened little bitch to go in after him?” 

Stiles felt the anger bubble up. Wanting to go out there and _hurt_ Donovan, like it was a physical need; a vice. 

“Or do scared little bitches not tell their little bitch sons about their failures?” Stiles was about to move when he felt arms around him, a body pressed into his back and a ghost of a breath tickled his nape. 

‘Stiles, don’t. Not yet,’ they whisper in his ears, placating him. He bites his finger instead, knowing they were right. ‘Remember what you read about wendigos? Let me remind you. They don’t have a good sense of smell nor can they hear well. Do you know what they _do_ have to compensate their shortcomings? Stiles. Tell me.’ 

‘They have good vision,’ he thinks. 

‘Good,’ they sigh into his back as they hold him tighter, nose barely grazing his nape. ‘So, don’t move, Stiles.’ 

“About how they put their partner in a wheelchair for the rest of his life,” Donovan continues on, baiting him not knowing the conversation he’s having with the fox. 

Stiles sees Donovan go up the stairs. Nogitsune moves before him, concern painting their face. 

‘Don’t move, Stiles. Hide for now,’ they whisper once more before they flicker out of existence. Stiles chases after the ghost of their presence not wanting them to go. The second dragged out as he feels his heart fall down to his chest, forgetting everything else around him as he felt _all_ _alone_ for just that one second. 

He would’ve given more thought to those feelings if he didn’t need to find a way out of his dire situation. Stiles then immediately hides behind another shelf that gave a better angle to see what’s above. He remains silent, listening carefully, not moving not even breathing. The second he thinks the coast is clear and that he could make it to the door, hands grab and drag him from behind. He grunts and tries negating the action only to fall along with the shelf behind him. Somewhere along the way, he drops his wrench along with the falling books. He runs to the railings nearby, all the while trying to push off the eminent sense of his death in the form of a guy who probably gets just as angry as he does these days. The railings, he knows, wouldn’t help him much. Yet he tries his luck with it, something somewhere pushing him towards it. 

He hits Donovan, throwing him off and lunges for it. He can hear him scream in frustration, voice a yell and a growl that only supernatural entities seem to be capable of making. Before he could climb any further, the chimera gets a hold of his leg. 

“Don’t worry, Stiles. I’m not gonna kill you. I’m just gonna eat your legs,” he says with a hiss. Stiles looks down to see the wendigo looking at him with only the white sclera, and jagged teeth. The tell-tale signs of a wendigo’s hunger already showing itself in his face. Stiles grunts trying to throw him off. There’s panic building inside him but his silent rage is stronger. The only thing that makes everything pale in comparison is the need to survive. 

‘I’m sleeping,’ he tells himself as he desperately struggles. ‘This is a hallucination. I just need to stay alive. It’ll be fine. Stay alive. Just stay alive.’ 

‘Pin,’ a ghost of a thought flutters in that second and he sees it. A pin holding up an unfixed piece of metal that would be a shelf if the thing was completely made. He jerks his arm out of harm’s way, trying hard to climb _just a little bit more_ to pull out the pin too high for him to reach. 

The second he does; he hears more than sees it. The loud noise of multiple metal pipes and bits cascading down before he hears the sickening wet squelch and a choked gasp. He turns slowly to see a single pipe run right through Donovan. 

He gets down slowly and walks up to the wheezing and bleeding Chimera. He tries to tug out the pipe only to stop when Donavon pants and groans. Looking at him, he sees the last moments of fight and anger behind those eyes and the spastic hand movements. 

‘It’s too late,’ a voice seems to soothe him as he sees Donavon’s blood oozing out along with the slow leaking of a silvery substance that mingles with his blood. 

‘Thank God,’ Stiles thinks and feels relief and satisfaction rush through him as the ghost sensations of old, _delicious pain and death_ filters through his brain like a small fix of heroin after months of abstinence. In anger and giddy relief, he kicks the corpse hard, making the blood splatter. 

Stiles blinks and stops thinking then. 

Panic hits him next. Slowly. Like the trickling sand of an hour glass. It slowly increased as the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to hours. It built inside him as he retrieved his ringing phone from the body and called 911. It grew as he ran out and decided to flee in his Jeep. It grew further as he waited, alone, in it for the police to come only see them leave empty handed. It rooted deep inside him as he went back inside to find no body, only the remnant traces of one along the mildly bloodied steel bars and realizing that this was no hallucination for certain. And it finally came spilling out as he stood before his board and scribbled down all that he knew, spelling mistakes making him all the more frustrated. 

He couldn’t scream for fear of waking his Dad and couldn’t sleep to hear the voice that he really wanted to hear. He got angry at the fact that they weren’t before him even though he knew it wasn’t their fault. 

In the end, he had to push it in and hide it all. He hid it all under the argument of self-defence even as the waves of phantom pleasure from the kill remained. He knew it was the side-effect of drawing from Nogitsune and as mild as it was, it still made him want to puke and revel in it at the same time. He rubbed the board clean, not wanting to know the ugly, _dirty, nasty_ truth and whisper yelled in frustration through gnashed teeth. He was breaking at the seams and now had more secrets. As if they were treasures that he was hoarding. 

It made Stiles wonder. Perhaps his apathy towards Donovan’s death and even happiness stemmed from his Dementia? No... Not entirely anyways. That made him sick to his stomach. It made him sick to realize that part of him was glad that Donovan was dead and that it wasn’t because of his messed-up brain. Another part was sicker because of the very fact that he could feel only relief and satisfaction from the death. He ran into the restroom and puked his guts into the open toilet seat, curling over it like it was the only thing keeping him sane. He heaved and panted before settling down onto the bathroom floor. 

He didn’t realize where he was until the phone rang and he yanked it out of his pocket. His eyes flitted to the small traces of blood on the very corner of it, rubbing it frantically before finally answering it. It was Scott. 

After the call, Stiles haphazardly popped his pills for the day, not even caring that he did it on an empty stomach. The sensation of feeding off of the pain of a dying chimera nullifying any urge to eat. He threw himself onto bed and waited for the sleep that would never come even after the tranquilizer kicked in, making him feel a lot more tired and depressed rather than feeling hyper and irritated. 

\---------------------------------------------------------- 

He couldn’t go to school the next day, too nervous to even look anyone in the eye. By anyone, he meant Scott in particular. Scott was the only one he couldn’t lie to. The one person he couldn’t face. The one person he _just could not talk to._ And it’s all his fault. 

**_Oh, what have I done?_**   
**_What did I do wrong?_**

“It isn’t your fault,” they told him, voice nothing more than a murmur. Stiles somehow felt a lot angrier for it. 

“Yeah. Cause it was self-defence?” 

**_What didn't I do that I should've done?_ **

“It was.” 

“We both know I liked it, don’t we?” He tugged at his hair, feeling like he’s losing himself and breaking at the seams, waiting for the time to tick by. Soon there’ll be someone from the pack with news of what’s happened and as usual no one would question why Stiles took a sick leave after seeing him more than healthy the previous day. Maybe the bags under his eyes helped quell their curiosity. 

**_I could let it go but on the other hand_**   
**_On the other_** ** _hand_** ** _I'm holding on_**

“And we both know that that doesn’t mean anything,” they insist. Their voice was firm and they walked over to his place on the floor as he leaned back onto his bed. They kneeled down beside him, a hand clutching the other as they look at him in earnest. “It’s common for victims to feel relief in such situations, Stiles. You’ve read about this.” 

**_You could walk away as far as I'm concerned_ **

“Don’t lie to me,” he hissed back, angry and bubbling with all that unused hyperactivity. He clutched the shirt it wore and yanked on it. “You know damn fucking well that it wasn’t purely self-defence.” 

Stiles’ grip loosened as he couldn’t look the other in the eye anymore. He slid back down and closed his eyes as he leaned back. 

**_But as far as I'm concerned you could stay_ **

“I enjoyed it not just for the temporary relief of getting to feel safe, I was glad that an asshole like Donovan got to die. That I killed him,” Stiles breathed out like a sinner confessing to the father in an altar. He side-eyed Nogitsune who simply stared at him blankly. He smiled self-depreciatively. “And you know that, don’t you? So why don’t you cut the crap. I don’t know why you’re even trying to convince me of having nothing to be guilty about when you just had more of your sick fantasy played out. Wouldn’t you rather be checking off things in your Stiles-fucks-up-his-life Bingo?” 

**_You keep finding, you're feeling alive_**   
**_In places you can't stay_**

“Believe it or not, that’s not all I want.” Stiles barked out a laugh and glared at them. 

“Yeah. Of course. You wanting to see just me suffer wouldn’t be enough, right? Maybe you want to see me take down a few friends along with me. You know? Like Allison? Maybe this time you hope I take down the whole pack. Or just Scott.” He looks at them and stabs them in the chest with a finger. “How much of my pain will you be willing to see before you get bored of it? How many more of my friends will you manipulate me into killing. Or are you hoping I’d kill them as my mind deteriorates? Are you having fun? Huh?” 

**_You keep finding, you're feeling alive_**   
**_Around words you cannot say_**

They remained silent. Stiles just scoffed at them knowing that more than anything, they’d rather perish than show what they really feel. Seeing them before him, expressionless, is all he can do to claim as a win. He wished they would just go away but at the same time, he wishes they’d stay. 

**_You keep finding, you're feeling alive_**   
**_In places you can't stay_**

What they did instead surprised him. Arms wrapped around him; he sees only another version of his chest as they cradle him. He blinks, surprised by their actions as they run their fingers through his hair and Stiles finds himself crying softly. Not being able to make a noise nor push them away because they both know he doesn’t really want to. 

**_You keep finding, you're feeling alive_**   
**_Around words you cannot say_**

“I’m sorry, _Saiai,”_ they whisper into his hair and Stiles wonders what they mean and what the nickname was for. He simply nudges his face into their chest further, ignoring the fact that they were way worse than Donovan. He’s sinking into his own brand of hell and he doesn’t feel the need to save himself. 

“Go away,” he tells them weakly as the tears stop. He doesn’t push them away though. 

**_Take it all away but then again please don't_ **

Soon, the mirage of his head mate disappears like a lie he tells himself to sleep better at night. As Stiles lifts himself off of the floor, wincing at the pain in his shoulder, he walks over to the board to properly clean it before anyone from the pack comes in. He ignores the feeling of loneliness that seems like it’s trying to consume him and the pounding headache he has for not getting enough rest after what seemed like a very, very long and _exhaustive_ night. He doubts he’s getting anymore tonight or the nights following that. 

**_Then again please don't ever go_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> Saiai - Beloved/Dearest  
> This isn't actually even a remotely common term of endearment in Japan. I simply think that the Nogitsune would woo Stiles cause it has, like, a millennia worth of experience when it comes to, well, 'how to treat your partner'. Also, yes! Nogitsune has fallen Hard for Stiles. I still think there'd be some behind the scenes banter and stuff but I also feel like they would be the type to be very romantic when they want to (this is being written by a aro so, pls don't kill me if it isn't portrayed properly... hehe).
> 
> Aaand that's all from the writer for now!  
> Bisous,  
> Sailingdreameater
> 
> P.S: tbh, at this point, I'm pretty sure I gotta have, like, a Tumblr and stuff and I do... But I don't really use it. Also, I'm veryyyy shy so I'm so sorry if nobody is able to reach out to me... All the same, I'm happy if you guys enjoy reading my work. It means a lot and I love you guys<3 So, stay safe and take care of yourselves, Lovelies~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyo~  
> I'm back!  
> Phew! That was a long break but I swear it wasn't on purpose! I happened to have exams and my laptop crashed on me aaand I lost my word document. I swear I thought I got a heart attack. Thank God I got it back and got things fixed but daaamn did I almost lose my shit lmaooooo  
> Anyways,,, here's the next chapter, loves.  
> Sadly, there will be no music added to this chapter. I promise it's a one time thing though >w<||

Soon enough, Lydia shows up at his doorsteps. Or rather, she just walks into his house and up into his room, barely announcing her presence as if it was something everyone knew of a mile away. Stiles would be lying if that were anything but the truth. Lydia Martin walked like she owned everything and if the world were even slightly different, that statement might even become fact. She was smart and bold enough to pull it off. A queen in her own right. 

The plan, as she put it, was to talk to Dr. Valack in Eichen house. _The_ Dr. Valack. The same creepy doctor with the third eye. In the same institution that made it a mission to kill as many people as possible, as if it were a living thing feeding off of the death and suffering inside of it. Almost like a certain somebody Stiles knew. 

“Lydia, I’m going with you,” he tells her as he picks up his hoodie to wear over his shirt. 

“I thought you said you were sick,” Lydia sassed, eyes scrunching and lips pouting. 

“I’m slightly under the weather,” he tells partially in question, hoping she accepts it. 

“You don’t have to come,” she placates him softly. “Malia is not going either.” 

“Malia’s not going because she knows that that place is a nightmare asylum of insanity and death, okay?” He tugs the hoodie over his shoulders as he looks Lydia dead in the eye. He was not willing to leave her to face Eichen house alone. “Let’s go.” 

He feels the pain radiate from his shoulder as the fabric brushes against the wound and he swears mentally. But Lydia noticed it as he tries to hide his wincing. 

“What was that,” she asks. 

“What was what?” He tries to play innocent. 

“You winced,” she explained, always the sharp one. 

“I have a bad elbow.” 

“It was your shoulder,” she said, rolling her eyes to his bullshit. 

“Pain radiates. It does that,” he dismisses her, moving towards the door hoping they would leave the room. She blocks his path with a raised eyebrow. He sighs, tired and not ready to deal with anything more. 

“You are not going without me,” he reiterates carefully; firmly. “You remember what happened to Deaton when he talked to Valack?” 

“Scott and Kira are going to be there,” she tells him stressing in a way to try and stop him from coming. She knew something was really wrong with Stiles but didn’t know what it was. She carefully shifts her eyes around slowly, aimlessly, so she can find a clue without Stiles knowing. 

“Okay,” Stiles tells her gruffly. He didn’t give off his normal hyperactive vibes and it caused alarm bells to ring inside Lydia’s head. “I’m not letting you go to a place where one of the orderlies almost killed you.” 

“He almost killed you, too,” Lydia retaliated, voice raising with the indignation. Mostly, she was frustrated at not figuring Stiles out. 

“And we’re both still alive. See? Teamwork.” He walks past her, ready to walk out when finally, _finally_ Lydia notices what she’s looking for. 

She slowly walks into his room, head tilted slightly, curiously. Her steps cautious as not to disturb even the dust. Stiles walked out and went to the corridor only to realize Lydia wasn’t following behind. 

“Lyds,” he calls out and goes back into his room. He stops dead at the entrance when he sees Lydia. She holds a set of tablets in her shaky hands and doesn’t look up at him. He swears once more in his mind, hating the fact that he made a stupid mistake. He shouldn’t have left them there for everyone to see. If his Dad saw... “Lyds, what are you doing?” 

Lydia looks up at him slowly, eyes like that of a deer caught in the headlights. She raises her hands to show him the pills in silent question, head tilting in a way that felt like she hoped he wouldn’t hurt her. Stiles hates that he wishes she’d just shut up about it and walk away. He sighs and puts his hands on his waist, lips curling inwards to stop himself from blurting out something stupid. 

“Paroxetine, Seroquel, Depakote, Razadyne ER, Stiles, I don’t get it.” She looked lost as she searched his eyes for answers. He ducked his head, sighed and scratched it. 

“Forget it, Lydia,” he told her as he walked over and snatched them out of her hands, shoving them haphazardly into the drawer. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Her voice becomes squeaky as she feels herself freeze in place. She forces herself to move as she turns bodily to face Stiles, making him feel all the more cornered. 

“We have dying teenagers right now, Lydia. We can talk about this later.” 

“Tell me.” She speaks so slowly; Stiles wipes his mouth nervously and moves backward to sink into his bed. Lydia follows and waits for him to talk. He wipes his mouth again and nervously drums his fingers on his arms. 

“I found out after the funeral,” he began abruptly. He could see Lydia stiffen and he swallowed, mouth dry and already regretting everything. “I saw the fake MRI scans and took it. I was gonna throw it out cause it was messed up by Nogitsune, right?” 

“Yeah,” Lydia says, a pout playing on her lips as she recalled the event and how the report looked like. “Like your Mom’s.” 

“Exactly like my Mom’s,” Stiles agreed with a nod. He gestured with his hands now and again. “So, I was gonna throw it out.... Except I didn’t. I opened it and...” 

Lydia tilted her head and sat beside him. He sighed and ducked his head to rub his temple and avoid her intense stare. 

“And it wasn’t meddled with. No signs of major atrophy in the parts that was magicked up like before.” 

“But,” Lydia prodded. 

“But there were minor signs of atrophy. The beginning stages. The stage where you would easily miss things unless you were specifically looking for them.” Stiles got up and walked up and down, nervously biting his nail. A habit he picked up from Scott over the years. Lydia was about to speak when he intervened, almost like he could read her mind. “Don’t bother. I burned it.” 

“Why?” He looked at her as if she grew two heads. He grits his teeth in frustration. 

“What do you mean why? Lyds. This is Beacon Hills! Do you think any of us have the luxury to worry about this? Forget that. Dad’s still paying off the medical bills and I’m saving for buying pills. Few months ago, we were worrying about who would die next! We don’t have time to think about something like this. _I_ don’t have time for something like this.” Stiles spit out, voice growing louder and angrier. Lydia seemed stunned by it and he sighed and rubbed his forehead again. This was why he didn’t want to say anything. 

There was deafening silence as Stiles continued walking about. 

‘Stiles stop,’ a voice whispered by his ear and he hunched over, tired. Too tired. 

“Sorry,” he utters, defeated and looks at Lydia who has tears slowly spilling down her cheeks. His eyes widen. He kneels before her and wipes her tears. She looks at him, unconsciously leaning into the touch. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.... If it makes you feel better, after Nogitsune split our bodies into two, I got a bit of fox left in me. It’s slowing down the spread.” 

He licks his lips and nervously glances between Lydia and his hands that held hers. 

“The Deadpool. The second key. Meredith wasn’t wrong. You _are_ going to die, aren’t you,” she said brokenly, a tear slipping out. Stiles stays quiet. There’s nothing to say. Nothing to deny. He’s going to die. Slowly. Losing his mind and the number of times that thought hit him was too many to even count. Lydia breathed in shakily. “You made me lie to Scott and everyone else. You knew.” 

“What are they gonna do if they knew, Lyds,” he asked her sardonically. “I’m dying anyways. Might as well wait till graduation.” 

“So, that’s why senior year was a big deal for you. That’s why you’re trying to finish school early. All that extra classes.... This was why,” she concluded, eyes wide. He looks down at his hands without meeting her eyes, playing with his fingers. “What about the vision? I thought you wanted to room with Scott.” 

He looked at her giving her an obvious look. She sighed and hiccupped instead due to her silent sobbing. 

“So,” she said rubbing her eyes and nose with her sleeve and looked at him, demanding his attention. He looked at her then. “You’re not gonna tell anyone before graduation?” 

Stiles nods silently. 

“Does the Sheriff know?” 

He shakes his head in denial. She sighs once more and hunches over. Stiles holds her as if she would faint any second. She lets him not knowing if that would actually happen. 

She comes to the conclusion that Stiles really doesn’t want to tell anyone. She’s angry and upset and can feel her heart sink to her stomach when she realizes she’s going to lose another friend. That makes her panic. 

“You can’t do that, Stiles. I won’t let you. I won’t. I won’t,” she tells him, voice wobbling as she tries not to cry again. She shakes her head vigorously and Stiles bites his lips, too tired to deal with this. He then becomes guilty for not feeling upset. He knows that she’s going to lose another friend but he just can’t bring himself to care. 

‘What a pain,’ he thinks with an internal sigh. Instead of voicing out his irritation, he plasters a smile. A smile that anyone would know is just too lopsided to look like anything other than a grimace. It shows stark on his face that he’s tired. There are wrinkles on his forehead that were never there before. 

“You can’t. Please, Lyds,” he begs her. “You know they don’t need to know that. Not now. Not with the Chimeras and the Dread Doctors. Now c’mon. We gotta talk to a creepy doctor with three eyes now.” 

He gets on one knee, ready to leave when Lydia grabs his hand. His smile is replaced by a wince as that jolts the wound. She doesn’t miss it. 

“You can’t keep this a secret, Stiles,” she tells him. Her voice an echo before she looks at him through angry tears. She knows it’s not his fault but she can’t help but feel she’s being manipulated. “How long do you think you’ll keep this up? Forget the pack. What about Scott; your best friend? What about your Dad? I know there’s something else you don’t want to tell me. How many lies are you planning on keeping? How many will you pile on top of that growing-” 

“I know, okay!” Stiles yells as he finally snaps. Lydia starts and moves backwards, scared. He doesn’t care. “I know that I have an ever-increasing pile of secrets and, somehow, I end up with more things that I can’t possibly talk about to anyone. You think I can tell this to Scott? No, no. Can you even imagine me telling everything to my _Dad_ ? Lydia, he lost his wife to this. It took a lot to get him out of his alcoholic rut. Can you _imagine_ what I’d be putting him through by telling him that his son now has it? After having that scare already? And the medical expenses? No way. If I could, I’d rather never, _ever_ tell him that. But I can’t. You know why? Because no matter what I do, he’ll figure it out anyways as I lose my frickin mind! So, let me be at least until graduation. Alright? Please?” 

He sinks down to the floor and leans back onto the bed, exhausted. He puts a hand over the wound on his shoulder. All the agitated yelling made it hurt like hell and he couldn’t be bothered to hide it from Lydia anymore. If she finds that out too, she’d probably flip again and that makes him click his tongue in annoyance. He really, _really_ doesn’t want to think about Donovan right now. 

“You say until graduation to give your Dad time but you’re actually giving yourself time, aren’t you,” she states, closing her eyes as a tear slips out with the last of her frustrations. Stiles just shrugs. 

“Does it matter? When we graduate, everyone is gonna go their separate ways. The vision doesn’t matter. Everyone’s gonna go their separate ways in the end. Everyone in the pack knows that. Well, except for Malia but that’s fine. She’ll get over it. I'll stay back in Beacon Hills and... Yeah. I already have that pact with Scott from when we were kids. If one of us die, the other has to look after their parent. So, I know Scott will look after Dad. I don’t have to worry too much.” 

“Fine,” Lydia concedes after a long pause, drying her tears and forcing herself to keep her expression in check. She flops her hands to her sides as she stares at his tired figure. “I’m just surprised Malia hasn’t figured it out yet.” 

That draws a chuckle out of both of them. It makes the atmosphere a lot less tense. 

“Well, she would but she’s still not entirely attuned to a human life,” he tells her and she nods. She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly and eyes the hand over his shoulder. 

“Wanna talk about the other thing you’re hiding from everyone?” He barks out a laugh but feels worse as the events from the night replay before his eyes. He closes them and leans his head back onto the mattress to erase the sight. It doesn’t seem to work so he opens his eyes to see the Banshee look back at him. She tries to hide it but her concern still shows in her face along with the remaining traces of a meltdown. 

“Not really but you’re not gonna let us meet Triclops without it so does it matter?” 

“Not really, no,” Lydia agrees with a smirk. “Besides, we have time. Spill it, Stiles.” 

“Did you feel anything yesterday night? You know, Banshee visions?” He looked at Lydia only to nod as her eyes widened. He tugged at his shirt to show the gore underneath. Lydia was the one wincing this time. “Donovan Donati. The third Chimera we know after Tracy and Lucas. He tried killing me yesterday.” 

And so, he tells her the whole story. By the end of it, he searches Lydia’s face for any sort of repulsion or disgust. Nothing came. Instead, he was hugged. Beside the awkward angle, Stiles couldn’t do anything but sit there. Still. 

’Huh. That’s the second hug I’m getting today,’ he thinks, surprised and finding it funny. Lydia then pulled back and looked at him, worry painted all over her face. 

“I guess from the way you’re behaving, you’re not going to believe me but I want you to hear this anyways.” She puts a hand on his other shoulder; the unhurt one and spoke softly. Like a secret that only he had to know and not the ghosts around them. “You’re not guilty, Stiles. You’re not the one at fault here. What you did... What you had to do.... It doesn’t matter. He was going after you and your Dad, right? So, it’s fine. It was self-defence. Even if your thoughts tell you otherwise.” 

Stiles listened to her quietly. He would cry except he’s too exhausted to do that. Instead, he gives her a wry smile and a shake of his head. 

“It isn’t that simple, Lyds.” 

“It never is,” she tells him and leans forwards making her hair fall over her face. “But it doesn’t matter.” 

“Scott won’t think so.” 

“You don’t know that. Give Scott the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Lyds. Look. I’ve known the guy for my whole life. I know he wouldn’t forget it even if he could forgive it. And that is a big ‘if’. It’s never that simple with Scott.” Lydia keeps silent, knowing nothing is going to get through to him. Stiles gets up with a groan and tugs at his hoodie. “Well, are we gonna see Valack or not?” 

“You’re not going to give up on that, are you?” 

“Nope!” 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

It was right after reading the book. Stiles found himself asleep and back in his dream with Nogitsune in it. He sighed when he realized he wasn’t finding out any world secrets after reading the book. He supposes it’s because he can’t seem to read it properly. He lifts his head from where he’s leaning on the couch. The place where all his friends were sleeping around each other was empty now. He was alone until he noticed a familiar face opposite him, sitting cross-legged and staring at him silently. 

“I might as well be reading hieroglyphics,” he whined at the fox and rubbed at his tired face. They simply snorted. Through his fingers Stiles eyed them carefully. There was something in the air. To be frank, he knows exactly what it is about. He’s been nagging them with endless questions. Sometimes the same ones as he forgets he even asked them. But the one question they have masterfully evaded was the most important one. 

‘How am I able to draw from your powers? It shouldn’t be possible,’ he had asked them. They always managed to avoid it. But now... Now, Stiles realized that they have decided to just come clean. But why? 

“In case you haven’t noticed, Stiles, you’re quite annoying when it comes to interrogation,” they snipe at him grumpily when he asks the same. He sits up straight and gives them his attention as they sigh in exasperation. They’re fidgeting with their thumb and that gives him reason to believe that they are strategizing. It’s makes it all seem quite fishy. Nogitsune gives him a sharp look before speaking. “Do you know everything about Kitsunes?” 

“No. Of course not. It’s not like I see them every day,” he quips and they groan but he can see a smile tug lightly at their lips. 

“I walked right into that one.” He simply shrugged. “Alright. Tell me what distinguishes a kitsune.” 

“You know you could just tell me normally instead of quizzing me.” 

“No.” 

“Okay.” Stiles leans back to rest his head on the couch and lists everything that he knows. “The tails, the physical manifestations of them, the eyes, foxfire, affinity to particular elements and the _Hoshi no_ _tama_.” 

“Very good. Now have you related all those features to me?” Stiles gave them an unimpressed look. Of course, he has seen all of them. Except- His eyes widen. 

“The _Hoshi no tama_. I haven’t seen that yet,” he answers. They smile encouragingly but Stiles’ mind is already racing with questions. All of which they seem to hear as they roll their eyes. He gives them a withering look. “So, what about it? It’s supposed to hidden really well by you guys. It’s not like I’m looking at a big bullseye with a label on it.” 

“Well, to be perfectly honest as my host, formerly, you should have had no trouble seeing it.” 

“But?” 

“But,” they trail off and if Stiles didn’t know better and seen the exact same look a million times before on his own face, he’d say that they were nervous. Looking behind them, he could see the tell-tale signs in the form of nine tails swishing behind. 

“Anytime now,” he urged them impatiently. 

“But I might have fused it with your soul.” Stiles looked at them trying to unravel their words only, they looked everywhere but his face. In any other situation, he would revel in the fact that he made them feel anything except their usual cocky, suave self but being hit in the face with a brick would be less shocking than what they just said. 

“My soul?” 

“Your soul,” they answered firmly even while their posture seemed hesitant. 

“My soul,” he repeated once more, trying and failing to grasp the concept let alone the weight behind it. 

“Yes,” they bit out. They ran a hand through their hair while their tails moved restlessly. 

“Should I be worried?” Because, truth be told, he doesn’t understand why it was an inherently bad thing. 

“Not exactly,” they began with a finger gesturing as much. The bobbed their head in a half cringe, face scrunching up as they spoke. “I did it when I first took over your body. I fussed it so it made things safer. I decided that I would just rip it out once you outlived your usefulness.” 

“Wow-” 

“I haven’t thought about it that way since,” they hurried to assure him. It should have been scary to know his soul could very easily be destroyed in their hands but truth be told, Stiles was the farthest thing from being worried. Plus, it didn’t hurt to know they couldn’t touch him even if they wanted to. 

“So, I get to use your powers ‘cause it’s basically in me now? But why is it just barely over a trickle? I know exactly how strong you are.” 

“You can’t use my powers. Using that little trickle itself comes from effort and consent. That’s just how the whole thing works, Stiles. My _hoshi no_ _tama_ is within you. But the jewel is just a pretty little thing without the spirit. And the spirit is nothing more than a ghost without the jewel.” 

“So,” Stiles began as the pieces fell into place and with it the familiar anger. “To heal myself, I-I take in parts of yourself?” 

“It isn’t as bad as it sounds, Stiles. I am a spirit. And a void spirit at that. I am a paradox in a little box. I am nothing yet I can be sensed. I am infinite yet I’m trapped in a finite place. You know this. You have felt me. It isn’t going to do any harm to yourself. You’re not going to.... Turn into me.” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he finally snapped. He glared at the nogitsune as the constant stream of ‘why’s and ‘I didn’t need your help’ ambushed him. 

“.... It’s not?” Stiles pressed two fingers to his nose and exhaled, willing himself to be calmer but failing. 

“For someone so smart and able to read my mind, how in God’s name does this fly over your head?” 

“.....” 

“I’m worried about you, you idiot fox!” The admission left said fox speechless and the words ricocheted from the walls, echoing about the isolated plane. Nogitsune simply moved uncomfortably in their seat, trying to regain the posture and pride they felt naked without. 

“.... There’s no reason for you to feel that way.” 

“Yeah well, too late. I am. Can’t help it.” 

“Stiles.... I’m-” 

“Infinite. A paradox. A bodiless spirit. I know. But you can’t honestly tell me you know what you’re doing when you’re healing me like this.” 

“It isn’t healing exactly, is it?” The pained and helpless expression on their face made something in Stiles’ stomach lurch. 

“It’s doing something. That’s what matters. And don’t try changing the subject! Do you or do you not know what the consequences are.” 

“..... Stiles-” 

“So, that’s a no.” He licks his lower lip and fidgets with his fingers. 

“I’m not going to stop.” They look firm by the way they talk with assertion. It is, however, not in their hands. And most definitely not their choice. 

“Well, you’re not the one doing it.” 

“Let me rephrase that. I’m not going to let you stop.” 

“What can you do, huh? You’re not even really here. You have almost zero control over me,” he hisses out, gesturing wildly and fuming. 

“Stiles....” Their voice dropped to a bare whisper. It somehow hurt Stiles to hear it. 

“What?” 

“Please don’t.” And there it was. A powerful being that could easily manipulate and outwit their enemies reduced to begging. Stiles should feel satisfaction at seeing his nemesis like this but as of lately, he doesn’t know where they even stand. He feels his eyes sting and the anger flicker into something he’s been trying hard to hide. 

“That- that’s not fair.” 

“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt in all my existence, it is that life is rarely, if ever, fair.” They smile a bitter-sweet smile then. He was right. It really wasn’t fair. 

“I hate you,” he lies as he curls into himself, holding his legs in his arms and putting his head on his knees. 

“Good. I’d be worried if you didn’t,” they joke and it feels weak even to his ears. He closes his eyes as the sting doesn’t go away. 

“I could stop doing what you tell me to. You don’t control me anymore.” 

“No, I don’t. I can’t make you do anything. But I’m begging you to do this one thing. Because otherwise, I might be lost once again. Lost without you.” The words are like a shock to his system. He opens his eyes to look at them to see them lean forward and watching him earnestly, hands balanced on their thighs. He takes a shuddering breath and watches them. They don’t shy away from his sharp gaze. It burns his insides. Makes him want to puke but also makes him feel giddy. He knows though, as a bitter smile creeps onto his lips, that it didn’t matter much. 

“Nogitsune, I’m still going to die. Maybe not within a year or five. But I’ll still die. You can’t change that. Only delay it.” 

“If it means I can spend some more time with the person I adore, then it is worth every second more.” Stiles was often told he had a very expressive face. He knew it was a fact. But looking at Nogitsune’s face was when it truly hit him. Every thought and every word unspoken and between the lines filled in like ink blots on a paper. It was too much for him to look at so, he looked away. 

“I’m sorry.” And if that sounded like a rejection, they didn’t say anything. 

“Don’t be. You know,” they began with a humourless chuckle. “It feels like my punishment is being met. For all the crimes I have committed. But even then-even then, I am not the only one who pays for my mistakes.” 

A beat and two passed. Maybe even a minute before Stiles figured out how to move his mouth properly. 

“For what it’s worth, with all the killers we’ve faced till now, especially Peter, I honestly can’t seem to judge you anymore. Especially not after what happened. It’s all practically water under the bridge.” 

It seemed to clear the heavy air in the room but one look at the nogitsune’s confused look as they sat leaning back in their seat once more. And, if he didn’t know any better, awkwardly. He sighs as he stretches his legs and rubs his face. 

“You don’t have to stare at me like that. I don’t bite.” 

“So, you’re not mad at me for killing Allison,” they tell him, voice dubious and an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, no. Not that,” Stiles tells them exasperatedly. “I’m not the one who should forgive you for killing Allison in the first place. Or Aiden. Or the officers at the Sheriff’s department. Or the people at the hospital. Or for hurting Coach. Or for threatening to kill plenty of people. Or for _actually_ try-” 

“Yes, I get it,” they interjected with a voice that told him they were both annoyed and amused. 

“You probably already have a lot of people you have to apologize to,” he continued. “I don’t think telling _me_ you’re sorry is gonna cut it.” 

“I never planned on apologizing, Stiles,” they told him coyly with a smirk playing on their lips. 

“Great,” Stiles drawled with a sarcastic smile, rubbing his neck where he feels the ghost of a pain. “And you want me to forgive you for... _what_ exactly?” 

“For everything you just accused me of,” they told him with a grin and Stiles rolled his eyes. Of course. 

“And _why_ exactly do you need my forgiveness?” Nogitsune smiled at him softly, tilting their head. So softly, he could feel his throat dry. 

“Because people don’t want to be hated by the people they like. Not even centuries old fox demons.” Stiles’ thoughts took a dive. He couldn’t think once more. He simply stared at the entity before him and gawked. They chuckled but he could still see a hint of hurt in their eyes. “I don’t expect you to forgive me now or maybe ever. But I can and will guide you till you draw your last.” 

They look at him with a mischievous smile and within a blink of an eye, they are beside Stiles, leaning on the same couch and turning sideways to look at him. Stiles can’t help his racing heart nor his thoughts as the fox continues to confuse him. They give a dramatic sigh, eyes closed and whine. 

“Ah. If only I had my way. I would prefer it if you’d listen to me and do something about that illness of yours but.... You’re too good for that. You wouldn’t pull something like Jennifer Blake did, now would you? Nor would you let me back in.” They shake their head in mock exasperation and open their eyes to smirk at him. “But the offer still remains. You can always let me back in and I’ll cure it for you.” 

“Why,” Stiles asks, confused and distrustful. He looks at them with scrutinizing eyes. “Why are you acting like the good guy all of a sudden?” 

“I never told you that I was the good guy,” they told him with a laugh. Before Stiles could argue they continued on. “I only ever told that I’d be willing to guide you. I am still a nogitsune. I still crave pain, strife and chaos. But now I’m willing to play the game by your rules, Stiles.” 

There was silence after Nogitsune spoke. Stiles was left confused and wondering what changed. It was quiet for a while like that before Nogitsune broke it once more. 

“Say you do decide to seek me out. I cannot promise you that I will not kill. That I will not cause pain. But, I shall do so only and _only_ by your own terms. I know you, Stiles. I know that you aren’t going to avert your eyes to death.” 

“You mean Donovan.” 

“I mean before Donovan. Before your dementia. Before me,” they speak softly and a hand makes its way slowly to cup his cheek as if he was a wounded animal. Stiles twitches but leans into the touch all the same. Fingertips grazed and brushed through his hair. Somewhere along the way, he closed his eyes once more. They didn’t feel as cold as he remembered. Nogitsune was warm to the touch. “You never averted your eyes. I know the fact that Scott’s strict rule against killing is not boding well with you. And I know that it’s not because of some delusion your shrinking brain is causing.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles tells them softly as he opens his eyes. Their face was too close for him to bear and he directed his sight to his hands that rest on his legs. “Yeah, you’ve told me.” 

Nogitsune smiles that genuine smile again and it leaves Stiles breathless. The fingertips of the hand cupping his cheeks brush his hair once more before they drop their hand. He hates it. 

“The ball is in your court, Stiles. What are you going to do?” 

Stiles opens his eyes to the warm living room he fell asleep in. Malia’s feet dangled beside his head and he can see Scott snoring beside her. It was still too early in the morning to even call it morning. He’s tired from the bare minimum sleep he’s had and the supernatural threat that’s here once more makes his head hurt. He’s swimming in worries and secrets and guilt. He looks at Scott once more and can feel his heart race as he thinks about Scott’s possible reaction to his secrets. And yet... And yet after all that in his head, Stiles could find a smile creep up on his lips and he doesn’t even know why he feels this giddy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, I dunno how well I edited this piece. Hopefully, I found out all the mistakes and corrected them. If not, please feel free to bonk me. I kinda tend to miss obvious stuff....  
> Butttt,,,, I do hope the chapter has come out well! Drop a kudos if you do.  
> One more chapter to go for the first arc to be complete! Hope you're all in for the wack ride that's gonna be the next part. Peel your eyes for a lot more blood... Hehe~  
> Love,  
> Sailingdreameater


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs list:  
> 1\. Hotel California - Eagles  
> 2\. Ceux qui revent - Pomme  
> 3\. La Lune - Billie Marten  
> 4\. Tum Se Hi - Mohit Chouhan
> 
> We're here, my awesome dudes! The last chapter for part 1!!

**_On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair_**   
**_Warm smell of_** ** _colitas_** ** _,_** ** _rising up_** ** _through the air_**

Stiles was once again in the woods searching for the Nemeton. With him was Lydia and she was harping on him about school and how this was a waste of time. Stiles knew that she’s doing this because she wants to just call Parrish and that constantly harping on it would make him irritated. 

**_Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light_**   
**_My head grew_** ** _heavy_** ** _and my sight grew dim...._**

‘Exactly. So, let her have a go at calling Parrish,’ Nogitsune tell him, hands folded behind their back as they watch Stiles in amusement. They even let out a small chuckle. 

‘No. We’re not doing that,’ he tells them, annoyed. He finds it annoying when their voice doesn’t seem as grating as he’d hoped it to be. In fact, it felt like good advice. To be fair, it truly was because he’s been leaning on that voice every time his mind failed him. 

‘Okay. Say you find Donovan’s body. What are you going to do with it? Say your prayers and then bury it? Last I checked, you weren’t religious.’ 

‘Shut up,’ Stiles finally tells them when he doesn’t have a better argument. 

“It’s almost like this thing doesn’t want to be found,” he tells out loud to Lydia. 

“Maybe it knows we’re late for class,” Lydia tells him sarcastically. She bobs her head inn exasperation as she looks at a tree. “Because we’ve been here twice.” Stiles turns to look at the tree and finds two markings there. 

“Crap.” Lydia inhales angrily. 

“Can we talk to Parrish now?” 

“Hang on,” Stiles tells her, raising a finger to placate her from leaving. There’s panic building up and he can see how Nogitsune tenses as if they can sense it. They probably can. “If the Nemeton’s covered in bodies, shouldn’t you be able to find them?” 

“Me?” Lydia looks about done with him but Stiles is not willing to let this go. 

“Yes, you. That’s what you do,” he tells her, gesturing to her person. 

‘Stiles, stop. It doesn’t matter,’ Nogitsune tells him, no longer amused as they sigh and rub their forehead. 

“You’re the Banshee. You find the bodies,” he continues, pointedly ignoring them. 

“Well, the Banshee’s having an off day, so how about we talk to Parrish?” 

Stiles hears a snort come from beside him and, yep, now he can feel their voice grate. 

“We can’t,” he insists. 

“Why not?” 

“Because one of the bodies.... One of them... One of them could be...” 

“Could be what,” she asks, feeling like she knows where this going. 

“One of them could be a clue,” he finally tells and she gets it. 

**_Welcome to the Hotel California_**   
**_Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)_**

“I’m leaving now, Stiles. I’m going to talk to Parrish and tell him he’s the one taking the bodies,” she tells him, knowing that at least this way, he’d let it go. He sighs in defeat. “It’s always better when they know.” 

**_Such a lovely face_ **

Deep down, he knows she’s right. That they both are right but he can’t seem to let it go. He keeps picturing Scott’s reaction and worries about it endlessly. 

‘You can’t always cling to his morals, Stiles,’ Nogitsune tells him, voice soft and eyebrows knitted in concern. ‘ _Make your own path.’_

**_They_** ** _livin_** ** _' it up at the Hotel California_**   
**_What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)_**

And as Lydia leaves, he decides to give up for now and follow her. 

“Well then, he should know he owes me a new Jeep.” 

**_Bring your alibis...._ **

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**_Mes_** ** _nuits_** ** _blanches ne_** ** _sont_** ** _pas blanches, à_** ** _peine_** ** _claires_**   
**_Semées_** ** _d'étoiles_**

The rain stopped as Stiles rode away from the animal centre. As he passed a few blocks he noticed his body double sit beside him quietly. He started. 

“Jesus,” he exclaimed and wiped the water dripping down his forehead. He turned to look at them again only for them to be missing. He sighed. 

Just then the Jeep broke down once more. Smoke made its way into it and Stiles _did not want to deal with this right now._

**_Petits_** ** _trous_** ** _dans la toile_** ** _étanche_**   
**_Tristes_** ** _strass sur le voile_**

“No,” he begged as the Jeep slowly came to a halt. As the smoke started choking him and made his eyes water, he hoped out of it. Coughing, he slammed the door close and went out back to pull out his kit. Throwing it on the road haphazardly, he opened the bonnet. 

“Stiles,” a soft voice called out and he ignored them. 

**_Et_** ** _moi_** ** _,_** ** _envoutée_** ** _de_** ** _ténèbres_**   
**_Je passe des_** ** _heures_** ** _infinies_**

Instead, he picked up the kit and opened it only to find that a wrench is missing. The wrench is missing. He chucked the kit and, in the process, saw Nogitsune stand there, looking at him. Unlike him, they were completely untouched by the rain. It lasted only for a second before they flickered out of existence. 

**_À_** ** _compter_** ** _les moutons_** ** _funèbres_**   
**_Qui_** ** _tapissent_** ** _mes_** ** _insomnies_**

Stiles simply turned back to the Jeep and slammed the bonnet down and grabbed the bloody wrench from inside the Jeep. He was about to fling it too when he looked down at the dried blood that didn’t wear off even in the rain. He looked at it and then turned to his Jeep. 

‘If only the Jeep had worked properly that night,’ he thought. He could’ve driven off, not knowing about Donovan. Or at least, he would’ve escaped Donovan. He threw the blood caked wrench onto the Jeep, smashing the glass. Panting, Stiles made his way to the Jeep and slid down to the ground beside it. Leaning back, he tried to stop the onslaught of a panic attack. 

**_Ah_** ** _minuit_** ** _est_** ** _là_**   
**_Ah je ne_** ** _dors_** ** _pas_**

‘Breath. Stiles, breath,’ Nogitsune’s voice echoed and he looked around to see their face only to find nothing but the same wet, cold surroundings. He felt the tears slide down his cheeks then as he felt so inexplicably alone. Just wanting to go to sleep to see the one face he needed, the one voice he wanted to hear. He should’ve listened to them from the beginning. 

**_Ah_** ** _minuit_** ** _est_** ** _là_**   
**_Ah je ne_** ** _dors_** ** _pas_**

‘It’s always better when they know.’ Lydia’s voice echoed through his head now and again as he hit his head on the Jeep behind. 

**_Je ne_** ** _dors_** ** _pas_ **

“I wanna see you again,” he whispers as he ducks his head down. He knows it can’t happen now. It wouldn’t happen now. They won’t magically appear before him. He was all alone and there was nothing that could be done. 

**_Je ne_** ** _dors_** ** _pas_ **

Instead, he walked the rest of the way home. Dad was at the station so, there was no one there either. 

**_Je ne_** ** _dors_** ** _pas_ **

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“How come you let it get so bad?” 

Malia spared him a glance as she drove Stiles. Stiles felt his heart fall even further down. He didn’t know if she was even asking about the jeep or him. The answer was the same anyways. 

“There’s been a few distractions, if you haven’t noticed,” voice sarcastic even if his heart wasn’t in it. 

**_Breaking my back in the heart of this land_**   
**_Feet above water and softened in sand_**   
**_I could have wanted any part of this_**

“I notice,” she interjected. “Noticed the pills too. That they weren’t strictly for your sleep at least. I notice things more than you think I do.” 

“Uh,” Stiles fumbled, surprised Malia noticed the pills. He wasn’t interested in talking about it to her. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Am I taking you home,” she interjected again, knowing that Stiles still doesn’t want to talk about it and feeling hurt. 

“No. Sheriff’s station.” He licked his lips, regretting calling Malia but not having a choice. “I gotta talk to my Dad.” 

**_But I find that heat is too harsh on the skin_**   
**_Drowning in light, need the cold to sink_** ** _in to_** ** _my soul_**

The rest of the ride was filled with awkward silence. Neither wanted to talk nor did they want to acknowledge each other being distant. Stiles knew Malia was still hunting for Mom behind his back and Malia knew Stiles was finding some big sickness from everyone including her. It hurt them both but they knew this was coming a mile away and still let things be. 

My soul 

As the car stopped, Malia decided to break the ice first. 

“You want me to go in with you,” she offered, hoping he’d say yes. 

“No, it’s okay. It’s probably going to take a while,” he tells her with a shake of his head. Malia feels her heart ache as she feels something change; something shifts in their relationship. She looks away as he sighs, getting ready to go inside the station. 

“Are you going to tell him about Donovan?” Malia looks at him as he opens the door, desperate to talk but not willing to show it. 

**_Ignore signs of change, no more_**   
**_I come back again, I am flawed_**

Malia isn’t good with change. She sticks to things she’s familiar with, comfortable with. She stuck close to Stiles because he had the familiar scent of the woods to him when she had first met him. She remained by his side since he was the first human she’d reconnected with in a long time. He meant a lot of things to her even though she knew that the relationship they had wouldn’t last. She clung to him as he became her anchor. 

**_Mmmm_ **

She didn’t know when it all changed. It was too slow and one day, she just woke up and sniffed the man feigning sleep beside her and noticed it. Change. Something changed. Stiles changed. No. They both changed. But Stiles especially had changed. And so, she spent more time with Lydia, desperate to cling to familiarity. She avoided Stiles more and more and _more._ Until, here they were. Awkward and hurt and clinging to their own sense of self instead of reaching out and _she hated it._

Stiles looked at her with wide eyes and closed the car door again. Hope bloomed inside Malia. Maybe if they talked, things would go back to the way they were. Maybe then, Stiles wouldn’t change. _They_ wouldn’t change. 

**_Swallow me whole with the moon on my back_**   
**_One side is pink and the other is black_**   
**_I'm good at hiding in the dead and grey_**

“You knew?” Stiles looked at Malia, eyes searching and fingers tapping nervously. 

“I guessed. I saw the bite on your shoulder while you were sleeping,” she told him. He licked his lips and leaned back to clutched the healed wound. She looked at him, carefully. Eyes reflecting her sincerity. “It didn’t matter to me. That’s why I never said anything.” 

**_But time after time, I've been people I'm not_**   
**_Places we go to are all that we've got_**   
**_So why don't we go?_**   
**_So why don't we go?_**

“Yeah, but it matters to me,” he mumbles. He looks at her, eyes showing hurt and Malia doesn’t know what to do. It snapped into place, then. This was it. He opens his mouth to talk again but closes it again, shaking his head. Just as he is about to open the door again, she finds her voice again. 

**_I'll never know_ **

“Would you at least tell me about the pills?” He sighs and shakes his head. 

**_Ignore signs of change no more_**   
**_I come back again, I am flawed_**

“Maybe later.” He opens the door and shuts it behind him. He turns to look at her, she can feel the tears pool in her eyes threatening to fall out. “Goodbye, Mal.” 

**_Mmmm_ **

\---------------------------------------------------------------------- 

As he sat in the Sheriff’s office, he could feel it in his guts. Something was going to go horribly wrong today and he couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t know what any of his friends were doing nor did he know what his Dad was doing. He was just stuck in this stupid office, waiting. He sighed and closed his eyes. Leaning back in his Dad’s chair, he rubbed his forehead wishing he could just go to sleep and closed his eyes. 

He felt like he was grabbing at air. Nothing seemed to work and he hated that he was right. That he couldn’t catch Theo in the act and in turn, all of them were being played like a fiddle. More than anything, he missed being in control. Missed having any power or say in the matters concerning his life. The lives of people he cared about. He was tired of having to follow codes or morals. He was tired of having to answer Scott and he was tired of wondering how much longer he could help before he was benched. Maybe sooner than he had anticipated by the looks of things right now. He thought he’d have to stay put once his Dementia took a heavy toll on him. Instead, it was due to a small fucking mistake. 

‘Should’ve just told Scott,’ he thought bitterly wondering if he was the weak link in the chain. 

More than ever, he missed the voice that sounded just like his but different. He missed the centuries old entity that wore his face in a much more sinister way. A few months ago, that thought would’ve scared him. But now? Now, the thought made him crave more. Made him crave for what they had. Made him want to hear the whispers in his head, the voices that were ever present. He wanted to go back to the feeling of having his being full and overcrowded as it carried two souls within. More than anything, Stiles didn’t want to be _alone._ Not like this. Not again. Never again. 

He scrunched his already closed eyes tighter as it stung. However, his own body betrayed him when a stray tear slipped out anyways. He touched his sternum with a sort of fragility, thinking about his own soul. 

**_Na_ ** **_hai_ ** **_yeh_ ** **_pana_ **

‘The _hoshi_ _-no-_ _tama_ ,’ he recalled and somehow, he felt a familiar sensation of something intimately known by him yet not quite there. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that his vision would be obscured by the dark tendrils of an old roommate. Stiles realized what it meant to be connected to the Nogitsune in this way. To be their last resort. To hold their _hoshi_ _-no-_ _tama_ within himself. He knew for the first time that they were hanging off a cliff into an endless abyss and that Stiles was the rotting rope they placed their bet on. 

**_Na_** ** _khona_** ** _hi_** ** _hai_ **

He chuckled bitterly. Were they confident that he would let them out even before their odd companionship had existed? For all Stiles knew, probably. He then frowned. Did they forgo all attempts to survive after? The thought made him want to puke, an unpleasant feeling threatening to consume him. Instead, he shook his head and tuned into the powers within. He held onto that thin rope and pulled. 

When he opened his eyes, he knew he should’ve been more surprised at finding himself in a dream, but he didn’t. He just wanted one thing. One person. 

**_Tera_** ** _na_ ** ******_hona_** ** _,_** ** _jaane_ **

He was surrounded by only darkness. The kind of cloying darkness that enveloped you and didn’t let you differentiate between yourself and your surroundings. It would’ve made Stiles claustrophobic if he wasn’t used to it. If he wasn’t comforted by it. Back when he was finally free of the void that surrounded him, he pretended to feel relieved. Pretended that the void didn’t make everything feel good. He was tired of pretending to not crave for the power and strength and support and companionship. He was tired of feeling weak and stuck with nowhere to go and no way to help as he slowly lost his mind. Instead, he walked further and further in, not pausing and never considering the repercussions. He walked, then strode and finally ran. He ran towards something he couldn’t see but knew was there. It was _right there._ _They_ were right there. He could feel them. He called out to them. 

**_Kyun_** ** _hona_** ** _hi_** ** _hai_ **

“Y’know? I could easily get through this without your help. But... But I don’t think I wanna do this without you. If you mean what you said before... If you really wanna be on my side.... Then please. Come back to me. I don’t wanna be alone.” His voice echoed through the darkness, swallowed by it, never echoing but heard all around and nowhere at the same time. He could feel it respond. Feel them respond. He yelled out again. “Kitsu-ne?” 

**_Tum Se Hi din_** ** _hota_** ** _hai_** ** _,_**   
**_Surmayi_** ** _shaam_** ** _aati_** ** _hai_**

And the darkness called out to him in return. There was that familiar amusement and playful demeanour. And beneath it there was that subtle sinister air of a malevolent creature that grew darker through the ages. It fell right in with his being and brought a smile to his face. This time, there seemed to be no hidden plot or cunning ploy as the darkness held him tenderly, patiently waiting to be let in. He welcomed it home. 

**_Tum Se Hi, Tum Se Hi_ **

“ _Tadaima_ _,”_ they whispered in his mind and he could hear himself purr in satisfaction, in relief. 

Somewhere far away, in one of the many Argent vaults, a cylindrical Triskelion box made from the wood of the Nemeton rattled. It shook violently and tumbled onto its side before exploding, the noise supressed by the vault itself. From inside the splintered wooden box, Mountain ash spilled out and a tiny fly that was weakly fluttering about disintegrated to sand. The sand too vanished with a breeze that should’ve been non-existent inside. 

**_Har_** ** _ghadi_** ** _saans_** ** _aati_** ** _hai_**   
**_Zindagi_** ** _kehlati_** ** _hai_** ** _,_**

Somewhere else, in a Sheriff’s office an entity opened their eyes. Behind those eyes were two souls, one in the left and one in the right, both mischievous and fox-like. And both wanted _to play._

**_Tum Se Hi, Tum Se Hi_ **

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Theo could see Stiles trying to call someone and smirked. He was probably trying to call Scott. He knew it wouldn’t work. He could hear his heartbeat race from a mile away and thought it was cute. 

‘Not now,’ he thought as he forced himself to look serious and not smile. It normally didn’t take much but Stiles always managed to bring out his ugly side. As Stiles turned to look at his car, he pulled over and got out immediately. 

“Sorry. I got here as fast as I could-” 

“We gotta go. Now. Parrish has got the bodies,” Stiles told him with an air of self-importance. It was adorable how he thought there was anything he could do. Well, even though Stiles was human, he was the one that managed to do the most. It surprised him. Really. The doctors had detailed reports on all the supernatural beings in Beacon Hills. Even Beacon county. And Stiles was filed in there. It was funny. A human that ran with the wolves so much that he _had_ to be filed with them. This guy had the guts to deal with creatures that could kill him with a swing of their arms and he managed to survive all that. He had strong instincts and was smart enough to distrust him. He had some respect for Stiles. It didn’t matter now. In the end, he managed to trick this so-called genius too. 

“Okay wait up,” he told Stiles as the faithful idiot made his way to his car. “Stiles wait.” 

“Parrish is out and he’s got the bodies,” Stiles continued in that duty-bound tone of his. Ever the righteous man. “We’ve got to find Scott. And we’ve got to tell him.” 

“Stiles,” he yells and finally, that got his attention. Stiles slammed the door and looked at him. “I don’t think Scott wants to talk to you right now.” 

“Yeah, thanks. I’m aware of that. It doesn’t matter. He needs to know about this.” 

“Stiles,” he repeats and couldn’t entirely help the little chuckle that tried to come out. “Scott doesn’t want to talk to you.” 

That got his attention as Stiles made his way towards him. 

“But I think your Dad does,” he tells him, flashing Stiles’ library key card at him. Stiles looked at, eyes wide and he couldn’t help but relish in it. “Your Dad was looking for you, Stiles. He found me instead.” 

“Where is he?” Stiles followed as he moved about, playing with him. He liked Stiles. He was good at being used, especially in places that truly mattered. With some time, he’d learn to get used to killing. Theo would make sure of that. But right now, he was disappointed. 

“I covered for you,” he told Stiles, angry at his stupidity and for letting his emotions get the better of him. 

Theo knew the best way to bring Stiles over to him. To isolate him. And so, when he saw the Sheriff bleeding and dying, he left him there. That would be Stiles’ punishment. 

“This was taken care of,” he told Stiles as he showed the card once more to Stiles. “If Melissa didn’t find it at the hospital... I guess even the son of a cop can make mistakes.” 

“Did you hurt him,” Stiles asked, ignoring all that he had just told him. 

“I never lied about why I came to Beacon Hills,” he told him instead. Stiles needed to know this. This was what was important. “I’m here for a pack. I came for the werecoyote. The one whose first instinct is to kill. I came for the Banshee, the girl surrounded by death. I came for the Dark Kitsune, the Beta with anger issues. I came for Void Stiles. _That's_ the pack I wanted. Unfortunately, it doesn’t include Scott.” 

Stiles glared at him, licking his lips, trying to keep his anger in check. He could hear it and it brought a smile to his face. 

“Your heartbeat’s rising, Stiles. It’s not because you’re afraid. Nogitsune is gone, and you’ve still got more blood on your hands than any of us.” 

“I’m about to get more,” Stiles tells him threateningly and it makes him laugh. 

‘True,’ he thinks. ‘But not against me. It’ll be for me.’ 

He smirks as he puts the card on top of his car. 

“I’ll tell you where your Dad is, if you promise not to help Scott.” 

He’s met with a punch. A punch that landed a little too hard for someone like Stiles and it surprised him and made him a little happier in his investment. Stiles would be perfect. He laughed, giddy. 

“There he is! That’s void Stiles,” he cheers, enjoying every moment of Stiles’ anger. This would be perfect for the future he envisioned. “It felt good, didn’t it?” 

He got another punch for that. This one knocked him down to the ground. He’s impressed as he wipes the blood dripping from his nose. He spits out the blood and pants. 

“We won’t tell Scott,” he tells him, firmly, knowing Stiles doesn’t have a choice. “Cause you can’t lose your friend, right? Even though we both know, you never needed him.” 

Stiles pushes him back to the ground, sitting on top of him and holding his shirt by the collars. 

“You hate me now, but you’ll get it eventually. This is the hard part. Cause you can’t help Scott and save your Dad’s life.” Stiles’ grip on his collar weakens and that’s when Theo knows he’s won. “You’ve still got time, Stiles. You’ve still got time.” 

“Pfft!” 

“Finally lost your mind completely?” Theo looked at Stiles who was smiling instead of feeling anger. He could smell it. The amusement. And something sinister beneath. He was confused but he did read that Stiles had FTD from the Doctors’ files. It didn’t matter because he knew they were going to experiment on him too. His case was too interesting to be dropped. He looked up at Stiles who let go of his collars but didn’t move. 

“You’re right. I’ve still got time. _We’ve_ still got time.” The smile he gets is too odd to be ignored by Theo. He tilts his head trying to think why. Maybe Stiles really did lose his mind. “But we don’t need to choose between Scott or the Sheriff. You _did_ take too long getting here, little Raeken.” 

The tone Stiles used chilled him. It made goosebumps rise on his skin as the chimera part of him felt the situation to be wrong, _wrong, wrong._ Stiles smiled too sweet, it even smelled of sugar. The what-ifs running in his head even as the logical part of him denied it. 

“No way,” he mocks Stiles as he puts on a cocky smile. “Stiles, Nogitsune is gone. You can’t fool me. I read the accounts of the Doctors. What are you even trying to achieve by doing this? Pulling a cheap trick like that won’t change the fact that you still have to choose between Scott and your Dad.” 

Hah,” Stiles sighs, his face loses its smile as he looks at him with disappointment. “And here I thought you were smarter than that.” 

“What do you mean,” he asks Stiles, brows knitting together, confused. 

“We saved the Sheriff already. And Scott.... Well, if I had my way, I’d let him get beaten up by his Beta but Stiles doesn’t want to let Scott get hurt any more than this.” Stiles spoke nonchalantly and looks at Theo again with a smile. In a flash he feels something sharp stab his neck and he turns to see Stiles pull out an empty syringe. “Doesn’t matter. We’re not concerned about him. He’ll live.” 

“What did you do?” Theo could feel himself get weaker and slowly fall unconscious. He tries to summon his strength to fight back but he seemed to have lost it. Stiles steps away from him with a grimace as if he were sitting on something gross. He crouches down beside him and tilts his head in mock pity. 

“The poison will wear out. Don’t worry,” he tells Theo with a satisfied smile. “We’ll take _good_ care of you.” 

As everything went dark around Theo, he could see Stiles’ face smiling before him. No. It was the Nogitsune. 

“We don’t like losing, Theo. You played your move. Now.... Now, it’s our turn.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it for the first part of The lies we spew!  
> The next part is gonna get darker. Well, I think I've made it darker but you guys be the judge of that.  
> As for this part, I loved adding in songs that I thought went well with the mood I created. Also, it felt on brand with the show. There are really some gems in there. Where's my love, I found, Who are you really, and soooo many more awesome songs! And I found one of my favourite artists from here- Aurora.  
> I'm not gonna go into any sort of hiatus before getting into the next part. Of course, it's still going to be on a weekly or bi-weekly update schedule. So, ye.  
> As for you guys,,,, I absolutely love you guys and thank you so much for staying with me until this point. It's going to get better, I promise.  
> Until next time!  
> Love,  
> Sailingdreameater<3  
> P.S.: I realized some of the tags I put on the this part didn't make sense nor did it line up with what you guys have read so far but don't worry, it'll all make sense. So, stay tuned!


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